If You're Sure
by sweetprincipale
Summary: A sequel to the Sex and Candy Trilogy.  Please read the trilogy first.  Set in an AU summer between Ss 5-6 , Spike and Buffy take their relationship to a new level. Happy, fluffy Spuffy with some smut and a point- eventually. Please read, review, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

If You're Sure

By Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set during between season five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life.,_

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the tilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know how that goes...Hope you all enjoy, read, and review!_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Msnycegirl0820, McPastey, and jmoran 319_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part I

"Is my tie straight?"

"Is mine?"

"Sod the fuckin' ties, how in God's name do you put on _this_ thing?" Spike waved a boutonniere in Giles' and Xander's faces. When he last wore suits, you just put a single carnation in the hole. Now there was green tape and pins and little bits of wire...

"Don't ask me to help you with it, my hands are shaking." Xander gasped out, rubbing his sweating palms along his jacket.

"I need a quick drink, back in a mo." Giles darted.

"This is bloody ridiculous." Spike savagely stabbed the floral taped lapel decoration into his buttonhole and jabbed the stick pin in to hold it.

"You must really hate this." Xander smiled maliciously. "Not being able to see how you look, and you having a center stage role."

"Shut it."

"You know- the white shirt kinda makes you look washed out. Dead-ish."

"Shut your mouth. Unless you want to ruin this wedding." Spike snarled.

"God forbid, you know I love her. I'd do anything for her. Including wear this suit from hell."

"I've been to hell- briefly, a little weekend trip- even they don't torture people like this." Spike nervously tugged on his tuxedo, hating that he couldn't check himself in the mirror, and having to rely on the Watcher and the Bricklayer for assistance. He knew, realistically, that they could be trusted to assist him in this. Things were pleasant between them. With occasional bouts of violent dislike and avoidance. But for the most part- pleasant.

"Stop twitching, you're making me jumpy." Xander paced.

"You're already jumpy, an' I'm not twitchin', I'm tuggin'." If only he could see Buffy, she'd tell him if he was done up proper. Or Joyce, or the Little Bit, they'd be quick to help put him to rights. But of course, all of those options were out of reach just now. The bride needing the full support of every available female in sight apparently.

"Just about time. Quarter 'til. The sun's almost completely down, you should have no trouble with the lighting." Giles puffed nervously on a cigarette as he reentered the small room the men were confined to.

"Did you see her? How did she look?" Xander asked eagerly.

"No, I didn't see her." Giles said firmly. Then a soft smile played across his lips. "But I know she'll look radiant."

"She will." Spike also got a wistful smile on his face. "This is gonna make 'em all so happy."

"I'm going to go check the arbor, make sure it's anchored firmly." Xander was too nervous to be contemplative. He'd never been in this situation before, and probably never would be again, and it scared him. If he screwed up in front of all those people...

"Damn glad he's gone." Spike jerked his head towards the door and sighed in relief. "Could make a rabbit on speed seem cool and collected."

"I suspect Anya's overemphasized the situation. She _is _obsessed with weddings lately." Giles stubbed his cigarette out in a potted plant.

"Well, theirs is comin' up fairly quick. Of course some people want a big fancy shindig. Dozens of guests flockin' in."

"Yes, well, it helps keep the chaos to a minimum when the groom has no family to speak of." Giles and Spike exchanged a rueful smile.

"Or could be because it's a shotgun weddin'." Spike gave a cold, vicious smile and Giles gave him a sudden angry glare.

"If that were even a remote possibility..."

"It had better not be." Spike said menacingly.

The two men were saved from a bout of threatening and arguing by the sudden appearance of Tara, draped in a long, pale blue dress and peacock feather necklace. "It's dark enough." She smiled softly.

Spike gulped.

Giles gulped and nodded. "Be right out." He said hoarsely.

"You make one wrong move durin' this..." Spike warned.

"Same to you. You ever even _think_ of trying something clever..." Giles took off his glasses and Ripper, all hard eyed and smugly smirking, emerged.

Spike fought down his own smirk. "Right, then. Places?"

"Places."

Xander dashed back in. "Best man speech, best man speech..." He mumbled frantically, looking for a piece of paper in the couch cushions.

"Bloody hell." Spike sighed. "Can we _move_? Some of us have brides not to be kept waitin'."

"Keep your knickers on." Giles muttered in a soft, unperturbed tone. This was really going to happen. He supposed it was inevitable. And so very, very odd, the only case on record... He felt peace swelling in him. _It's all about to happen._

They went to their stations. Everything was strangely beautiful. Simple, but beautiful. It wasn't going to be a big ceremony. It was held in the backyard of the Summers' home at 7 pm (or whenever the sun was low enough) on a late August evening. Moonlight and sunset battled for dominance in lighting and everyone could now see Joyce's wisdom on insisting that all flowers and decorations be white- any light complimented them, the atmosphere's natural light or the light from the eight garden torches. It all looked gorgeous. _Must be that gallery owner-artistic eye_, Xander thought as he took his place beside the groom.

Spike sucked in air he didn't need. Buffy was a vision. All delicate and tears shining in her lashes, some sort of flowers in her hair. A glorious vision. _How'd that little beauty end up with me? How'd we end up together, makin' a home together, in love?_

Giles surveyed her as she smoothed a hair into place, his smile so wide he didn't think his face would survive it. _Look at her. My girl is all grown up. Oh, she's young, but capable. She can save the world, she can handle anything...even Spike._

A hand reached out and hit the "next" button on the large stereo system set up on the patio. "Oh, my. This is it. This is it. It's- we're really... I'm going to faint."

Spike smiled and took the bride's arm. "You won't faint, Joyce. An' I don't know if I can faint or not, so I'd say we're good."

"Is Rupert nervous?"

"Not a bit. Beamin' from ear to ear an' dreamin' of you." Spike tugged his tie once more. "Am I alright, Mum? I mean, Joyce?" _Dammit. Had to stop fuckin' doin' that! _Made him sound so poofy.

"Spike- you're like my son-in-law. You can call me 'Mum' if you want." She gently pushed his hand from his throat and straightened it for him.

_Not a son-in-law an' never will be. But never mind that now. _"Whatever I call you, you're on." He pushed open the back door and led her through it, offering her his elbow once more.

"Thank you for everything." Joyce hissed through her smile as they began their short walk to Giles and the minister.

"Jus' a little walk, Joyce, I don't mind it." Spike lied easily. He didn't _mind it_, per se, but when Joyce asked him to do it, he almost died-again.

* * *

><p><em>A few weeks ago: <em>

_ I'm a soddin' vampire, I don't give the bride away._ "That's the father of the bride's job." He'd protested- although in a much gentler voice, because, after all, it was _Joyce._

And she explained that she had no father left, no surviving uncles, no older brother, no younger brother, not even a nephew. She had a brother-in-law, but they had never been close. Ask Xander, he'd suggested nervously. But no- Xander was to be Giles' best man, Giles not having any close male friends who weren't from his wild youth or his tweedy Council. And the less the Council knew about his nuptials with the mother of his Slayer, the better. It wasn't forbidden- but it "just wasn't done."

"Seriously, Spike- the only other men I have a close relationship with are you, and my ex-husband." She laughed bitterly at the end. "And that doesn't mean a close relationship is a _good _relationship. With Hank... it's more a series of weekly phone calls about child support for Dawn." Spike snarled at that. Joyce might call Hank Summers her ex-husband, but Spike called him "Buffy's ex-father" inside his own mind. Rupes was the father-figure and about time he stopped fartin' about and did somethin' about it.

And it's bad when a lovely woman like Joyce chooses a vampire over a deadbeat like her ex-husband. He'd almost given in right then, but he had to let his whining demon make a final protest.

"But Joyce- I'm- I'm not cut out for this. It's an honor." _I don't deserve honors. I don't want 'em. I'm s'posed to be the local Big Bad. Isn't my fault I'm relatively defanged right now. Or that I happen to have a soft spot for a small handful of humans. I'm still evil an' should in no way be part of a white hat weddin'._

"You saved my life. You saved my baby girl's life. You saved my Buffy's life. _You _are the person I'm asking, and either you can walk me up, or I walk up alone."

Dammit. Could you ever really win against a Summers woman when they were determined? No. Especially not this one. She didn't have superpowers, just a boatload of stubborn. "Then I will be glad to do the hand off." He'd finally given in.

_No one told me about the ruddy suit..._

* * *

><p><em>Present:<em>

"I'm not talking about the walk. I'm talking about_ everything_." Joyce smiled significantly.

Spike nodded and swallowed._ If I flub this line... When had this damn lawn gotten so big? Why are we movin' so slow? Or is my mind just movin' so fast than my body can't keep up? Don't worry, it's only one line. Then you can sit back and look at your Buffy, so bloody edible in that little dress..._

"Who giveth this woman?"

Spike's feet ground to halt and his eyes focused. They were at the bridal bower already. _Bugger it, show time!_ "I do, on behalf of her two beautiful daughters and her many friends, give Joyce Summers to be joined in matrimony to this man." And he used his William voice- 'cause Joyce deserved that. 'Cause she'd like that. Oh yeah- there it was, she glowed at him for one brief second before her eyes were locked with Giles'.

Thank God, that was done. He retreated to the first row of chairs, taking a seat next to Willow and Tara. "Good job." Willow whispered with a nod.

"Ta' Red." Spike let out a breath he'd been holding, probably for about ten minutes. "Joyce looks lovely, doesn't she?"

"Beautiful." Tara enthused.

The bride was in a cream colored dress, slim and flatteringly tailored, obviously intended for the more mature bride, or a second marriage. Giles looked dapper in his gray suit, and both of them held hands in front of the black suited minister.

"I'm going to cry." Willow suddenly sniffled.

"Oh, Sweetie, here." Tara held out her arms to her lover. Spike snorted softly and rolled his eyes. Soft and mushy feelings could wait for later, when he was alone with Buffy.

Speaking of which- Spike settled back in the folding chair and focused his eyes on the real beauty. Not that Joyce wasn't a picture, but Buffy, in her little white dress was the real treat. Everything was soft and dove colored. Joyce had been going for "neutral, goes with anything" colors, and white was more wedding and celebratory than black. Spike didn't give a damn about that. The dress was tight, backless, came to just above her knees, and left nothing to obstruct his view of her beautiful neck and shoulders. He turned his gaze briefly to Dawn. Now, on her, the exact same dress looked sweet and innocent. On Buffy it looked like an invitation.

Spike's completely impure fantasies kept him occupied until the minister told the groom he could kiss the bride. Then he sat up and smirked. Rupert better not do a half assed job of this... _Oh God, he's takin' the glasses off..._

Dawn's squeal burst the silence and Buffy's thick, teary laugh joined in as Giles grabbed Joyce in a swooping, back bending kiss, pulling back with an extremely Ripperish smile.

"That's the way to do it!" Spike clapped and joined the rest of the small company on its feet as they clapped the bride and groom down the short grassy aisle between the few rows of folding chairs.

"Stop moving! Stop moving!" Anya, unofficial wedding photographer, jumped from spot to spot, trying to capture the newly married pair from every angle, seemingly simultaneously.

Spike sauntered up to his girlfriend- yeah, after about five months of living together- even if some of that time hadn't been as a couple in the traditional sense, he supposed he could call her that. "We've been so busy gettin' set up for tonight. Didn't get to tell you how beautiful you looked."

Buffy grinned and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "You look nice yourself." She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his so fast that no one without Slayer or vampire visual processing speed would even be aware of it.

He ran a hand lightly over her back. He and Buffy weren't big on the public displays of affection- public didn't include at home, in front of Joyce and Dawn. They weren't a secret anymore, but it was still sometimes a little strained between her friends and himself. "Let's go make nice, okay? The quicker we feed 'em, the quicker they leave, right?"

"Right." She rolled her eyes. "I don't want anyone to leave. Except Mom and Giles. They should get on the road before too long."

"Nothin worse than a bride an' groom too worn out for the big night." Spike smirked. Buffy walloped him with her bouquet of white camellias and peonies.

"Don't talk about Mom and Giles like that, it grosses me out."

"Oh, don't even tell me. I'm still gettin' the shakes when I remember last Tuesday."

"Oh- was that the 'coffee incident'?"

"Yes, it bloody was." Spike pressed the thought far away.

* * *

><p>Giles knew that he and Buffy shared a room. They were aware that it was common knowledge and tolerated, if not heartily accepted. So he and Buffy were very discreet when others were in the house, often using the floor for their more aggressive trysts, despite the new bed with its unusually sturdy mattress. They in turn knew that Joyce sometimes spent the night at Giles' flat.<p>

Spike, however, wasn't prepared to walk down to the kitchen a bit earlier than usual on Tuesday to make the morning coffee to find Giles and Joyce snogging on the counter top. In bathrobes, all sleep rumpled. Some damned protective instinct took over and Spike dragged Giles off with an angry shout. "Oi! Hands off the lady, Gramps!"

"Oh honestly, Spike. I can kiss my fiancée in her own home." Giles was too besotted to work up a temper.

"You spent the night? But- I spend the night. I can't-" Spike paused._ What the hell do I say? I can spend the night with my girl, but you can't? You're about to be man an' wife, an' your shaggin' disgusts me, but Buffy an' I can go all night an' Joyce gives me full support? _ "I- can't- make coffee with you two right there."

"Coffee's already made." Joyce gave a girlish smile and he felt himself smile back.

* * *

><p>"You're reliving the coffee incident. You should stop."<p>

"It's very disturbin'. I'm happy for Joyce, an' God knows Watcher-man is way less uptight. But don't know how it's gonna work with the five of us under one roof. Guess you can come over to my place a lot more. Guess we both will." Spike rarely went there now . Home was with the people you love- _although only God could ever explain what happened to make me feel that way about those three._

"That place is gritty and chilly." Buffy pouted.

"You're the Slayer. You can handle it." Spike and Buffy stopped their muttered conversation when they drew abreast of the laughing, crying, hugging throng. "Shall we do the formal congrats?"

* * *

><p>"Congratulations." Buffy hugged her mother, and then her Watcher. "Hello, Step-Daddy."<p>

"Buffy, please..."

"Ooh, does this mean I can drive the Beemer now?" She skipped excitedly, tugging on his lapels.

"Under no circumstances." Giles folded her to his chest. "This won't change anything, Dearest. I'm still your Watcher. And I've always had a father's love for you- now I've got some right to that."

"Oh, things are so going to change between _us_, though." Dawn inserted herself between Buffy and Giles, and hugged him with all the affection she'd stored up for her absentee father. "You have to take me to the mall, and to the park, ooh, and the zoo. And we should talk allowance." She beamed up at him.

"Lookin' forward to your cruise yet?" Spike rescued Giles with a handshake.

"Bloody hell, yes." Giles returned the gesture with a Ripperish smile.

"Not in too much of a hurry, though, right Rupert?" Joyce took his arm, passing her sister Arlene along to her daughters for a hug. "You're only getting one wedding, mister, you'd better enjoy it."

"How could I not enjoy it when I've got the most beautiful bride in the world?" Giles spun her slowly, waltzing without music.

"Well- you haven't seen me in my dress yet." Anya spoke up brightly, now joining them. "Joyce is in her forties and I'll have the youthful glow on my side, plus a far more princess-like gown."

"Ahn, Baby." Xander kissed her cheek and explained. "Joyce is the most beautiful bride to Giles."

"It's all about the love thing." Dawn linked her arm with Anya's free one, the one not possessively gripping Xander's elbow. "See, you'll be the most beautiful bride for Xander, and to Spike, Buffy would be the most-"

"Steady on!" Spike yelped.

"Whoa! End the comparison or eat bouquet." Buffy shoved her bunch of flowers in Dawn's face.

"Girls, please, don't fight." Joyce admonished.

"It's bad form to fight at a wedding." Giles said with a patient sigh.

Anya disagreed, idly adjusting her hair. "In some cultures it's a sign of your approval to fight, to engage the bridal couple in a battle to first blood. It means you think that the couple is appropriately matched and likely to produce strong spawn."

"Normal people here." Willow said with a fixed smile, jerking her head towards the group of Joyce's milling co-workers and an acquaintance or two of Giles'.

"Oh! Right." Anya winked conspiratorially. "Umm. Everyone have a shrimp puff. I'll get the fruit things on sticks!"

* * *

><p>"It was a nice do, wasn't it, Luv?"<p>

"Very nice." Buffy and Spike leaned back against the table against the side of the house, watching the brilliant silver moon and the couples dancing on the lawn. "Do you think my mom is drunk?"

"No. Happy." Spike smiled.

"I don't know..." Buffy grinned, watching her mother dipped and twirled by Giles. "She seems pretty loosened up to me."

Spike stiffened and sniffed. "Better not have had more than one glass of bubbly. She's not s'posed to drink with the blood thinners."

"She knows, she knows." Buffy lightly touched his arm. "I forgot for a second . She's just high on a big happy."

The pair settled back against the table again. Spike reached into the large silver ice tub holding drinks and fished out a soda for his partner, took a beer for himself. "Here." He casually passed her the soda once he opened it for her.

"You don't have to open my drinks for me." She reminded him with a half-smile.

"White dress. Brown soda. Don't spill, Slayer, you're not as graceful as all that."

"Bite me." She glared.

"Will do. Soon as all these guests leave and we get Mumsie and Dadums on their way." He smirked, and brushed a single finger against her arm. A different kind of glare passed between them. They resumed their leaning. They didn't look at one another or touch, standing a few inches apart, the epitome of relaxed companionship. After a moment spent watching the couples on the lawn, he asked casually "Had a nice time?"

"Yeah, everyone looks so happy. And the food was yummy. The lawn..." Buffy surveyed the torches, the chairs, the tables littered with remains of cake and hors d'oeuvres. "This is gonna be a bitch to clean up..." They both laughed softly. "And I just noticed you didn't offer to help."

"I love you." Spike said, lighting up. "I'd kill for you, and I'd fuckin' die for you. Doesn't mean I want to wash an' iron all the white tablecloths Joyce has scattered on every surface."

Buffy was about to make an angry retort but she held it. "Uh-oh. Jean- coming straight this way."

"Jean?" Spike cast his eye around the guests.

"You know, Mom's secretary- you've seen her more than I have, you little gallery whore."

"I bring your mum a cuppa sometimes, so sue me."

The secretary reached the couple, beaming. "Spike!" Jean gushed, taking his hands. "You know, all this time, I've never seen you and Buffy together."

Spike blinked and Buffy laughed nervously. "Well- I don't get- downtown as much as I should." Buffy prattled.

"I know, Honey, your mom always tells me how busy you are with your night job and your classes. It must be nice to have a boyfriend who stops in to check on your mom."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." Buffy nodded, eyes widening.

"Speaking of boyfriends, you two haven't danced at all. Go dance, it's a beautiful night, everyone's taken care of!" Jean urged, moving her hands from Spike's to Buffy's.

"We don't dance." Buffy said, as Spike answered,

"Maybe another time."

Jean surveyed them. Joyce gushed over this boyfriend all the time. She jokingly referred to him as "Mr. Charm", because "Third time's the charm" and this was apparently Buffy's third serious boyfriend. There was also something about him doing CPR or something to save her life or stop muggers from hurting Dawn. A really great guy. So why weren't the youngsters making a night of it? "Well." She nodded. "I'll leave you two to get cozy. Even if you don't dance- it is a night for romance." She winked.

"Not too much for our private life bein' public jus' now." Spike shrugged.

"Oh." Jean's brow creased, and she walked away.

"Nicely handled." Buffy nodded, without looking at him.

"Thanks." Spike tilted his head and muttered. "Love you more than anything." Very simple. Very matter-of-fact. _We don't need all this mushy crap. Not in front of the others. I can pour out everything, take everything she pours out, once we're alone._

"I love you, too, Spike. As soon as we get a minute, I'll show you." Just as simply. When they were finally alone- it would be so good. All her worries, all her stresses from the day, all her joy, all her excitement, she could dump it out on him. Really be herself like she couldn't be with anyone else. He would take it, use it, turn into something so passionate that it would all feel better- even if it was only for a few hours. He always did that.

"Steady on, here comes another. Don't recognize her."

"It's Leah. She's our old neighbor from when we lived in LA. I guess she and Mom stayed in touch."

"Look at you! Oh, my goodness, you're so grown up! I haven't seen you in so long!" Leah gushed and squeezed Buffy.

"Good to see you, too!" Buffy made the obligatory return gush.

"This is your boyfriend?" Leah moved onto Spike, and hugged him before he could fend her off.

"Uh, yeah. Spike. He's English. Really not too much for hugging." Buffy laughed nervously as Spike scowled and tugged himself free.

"Well, I'm so pleased to meet you." Leah sighed happily, looking around at the moon washed dancers and the flickering torches. "How'd you two meet?"

Buffy and Spike exchanged a quick glance. "Work related." They both answered as one.

"Oh, that must've been risky. So many places frown on workplace romances."

"You've no idea, Ducks." Spike laughed hollowly.

"Really, really risky." Buffy nodded emphatically. "That's why Spike no longer-has the same employer." Spike rolled his eyes. _Well, it was true! He used to work to take me down. Not anymore. He's Mr. Big Bad for the good guys now. _

"Yeah, I do all manner of crazy shit for love." Spike said bluntly. _Prolly shouldn't curse like that. The silly cow looks all flustered. Plus, Buffy's glarin' at me. Or is she tryin' not to laugh? Better fix it._ "Do anything for this girl." _Oh good. Two smiling faces, comin' up._

"How sweet. Will this be you two next year?" Leah gestured to Joyce and Giles who were whispering and cooing in folding chairs.

Buffy blanched and stammered and Spike hissed in annoyance. "Lady- just be glad we got this far."

Leah looked taken aback again and Buffy hastily sweetened the explanation. "It's been an interesting couple of months."

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

If You're Sure

By Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life.,_

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes...Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. The songs referenced here are "Tales of Brave Ulysses" by Cream and "I Touch Myself" by Divinyls (which were mentioned in the show as well)._

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Msnycegirl0820, McPastey, and jmoran 319_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part II

_About two months before the wedding..._

"Hey." Buffy came up to her room- _sheesh, I guess I have to call it _our_ room now-_ and sat cross legged on the bed.

"Hey." Spike stubbed his cigarette and threw it out the open window. "Had a good chat with Bit?"

"She's snug as a bug in a rug."

"Sounds less than cozy." Spike smirked and eased down beside her.

"She's drifting off to sleep. More like sprinting off to sleep. Now that she doesn't have to worry about being used to unlock some big evil dimensional doorway, she relaxes so much better. She'll be asleep in no time." She scooted over so he could join her on the bed.

"Mmm, and Mum an' Rupert are out on the town?" He took his set beside her if he'd always done it, as if they'd never known anything but this room and each other.

"They went to see an art exhibit. I guess that's as 'out on the town'-esque as they get."

"We have the house to ourselves, relatively speaking." Spike gave her a slow, smoldering gaze.

"Uh-huh." Buffy returned the look. "Um." She blushed for a split second. "Are we on the bed or the floor?"

Spike cocked his head at her. "Are you alright, Luv?"

"I'm fine." She answered quickly. "Totally fine."

_And I'm a fluffy little puppy._ "Let's stay on the bed. You want some slow an' gentle? I can do slow an' gentle." He assured her.

"I know. I know you can be whatever I want, whatever I need." Her face softened and she sank down onto the thick white quilt. That was why they were so good together.

Spike smiled and rolled to his side, capturing her mouth. "Next time I get a bit of the ready, I'm gonna buy us some different beddin'."

"This is brand new!" Buffy pouted. As in brand _never been used_ new. As in they had _slept_ in it, but still hadn't done anything_ else _in it yet. Now that everyone realized that they were a couple and that their late night "conversations" caused squeaky springs, they'd been doing all their love making on the floor.

"It's all bandbox fresh, Luv, an' lovely. I just think white isn't the best color for us." Spike lightly brushed her neck, then bent down and bit gently.

"What color did you have in mind?" She giggled softly. He was making her feel better already. Not to mention hot and damp in the thigh region.

"Somethin' dark. Red or black. Burgundy." With fangs, and them writhing and moaning together-well, there was spillage sometimes, wasn't there? "You could- um- pick it out if you'd like." Dammit, why was this so awkward? _I love her, an' she loves me. We live together, an' everyone knows it. Her mum gave us her blessin' and calls me the family's "guardian demon". I used to have this, this livin' together gig, with Dru. It was all different though..._

"Great. We could- uh- go to the mall before patrol some night." They both nodded tightly. _Pick things out together? In a mall? Can you say little white picket fence around the crypt?_

"Sounds like a plan."

"Are you freaking?" That was the problem with knowing him, really getting him, and him knowing her. They were far too aware of each other's moods and worries.

"No, Buffy. I'm not. Jus' gettin' used to this."

"Me, too. It's nice to have a guy stick around for good and bad."

"Mm, let's not broadcast the good too much." Spike bent his head and kissed her again. "I'm still s'posed to be one of the villains, Pet."

She heard soft clunks as his boots fell to the floor. Heard a soft clicking and felt his fist against her stomach as he undid his belt. "I love you." She reminded him in a whisper.

"I love you, too." He relaxed. "Is that what's makin' you a little uptight, Precious? Gettin' used to us?" She was his definition of uptight , but never in here. Not since the very first time they'd been together. How could you be nervous with your other half? That's what they were, the other halves, a reflection of each other.

"That- and Mom and Giles. I know they aren't saying they're dating, but c'mon! They're_ totally_ dating. He's used every non-date-y outing or excuse possible to see her in the last two weeks. Ever since he came over with that book on magical artwork and red roses. Who brings red roses for coffee?"

"Men in love." Spike nibbled her ear, but Buffy wasn't to be distracted. Not entirely, at any rate.

"Spike..." She giggled and squirmed, tucking her ear into the pillow to protect it from his lips. That only bared her neck and he ran his tongue from her collarbone to the hollow of her jaw. "Stop, I'm thinking."

"Red roses. Man's in love. Watcher's a decent bloke and he realizes he almost lost Joyce. Made him stop arsin' about an' get a move on. What's your beef, Luv?"

"It'll be_ weird_. He's my Watcher. She's my mother! They should _not_ mix." She sighed.

"We shouldn't either." He pointed out. _We're the fuckin' definition of nitro an' glycerine, but we do alright..._

"That's different." She said petulantly. _We are so, so not supposed to mix. But we're like ying and yang. We- we balance the good and bad and all that._

"How is that different?" He demanded stubbornly.

"We...but... _they're_ old!"

"I'm sorry? Old? You're datin' someone who's gonna hit his_ bicentennial _before you get your license. At least the way you're goin' about it."

She glared and prepared to make a feisty retort, but instead just sighed. "It's my mom. And Giles. He's like... my dad."

"I don't see the problem, Pet." _Mother, father, sounds like a good deal to me. Then again, I'm kinda the brains of this team._

"I don't want to lose him." She finally whispered, arms stilling at her sides.

Ah, got it. Spike nodded in understanding. " 'Cause you can count on him to be there for you, an' he gets the slayin' deal."

"Mom never did. Not before Glory. And I don't want him to have to choose between me and her, being a boyfriend or being a Watcher."

"He's a smart lad. He'll juggle."

"I don't want to lose her either. I almost did. I would have, if you hadn't been there."

"I love your mum." Spike snarled at himself and bit down on his lip. _Dammit to hell, don't say things like that._ " Look, I mean, she's a nice lady, and Giles will look after her. I know you can count on them." He left an unspoken implication hanging in the air, knowing she could pick it up.

"But I have someone new to count on?" Her posture suddenly uncoiled and she let out a deep breath.

"You know I can't help myself, Luv. I'm here for you."

"You just keep making me love you more. Jerk face." She beamed at him and winked.

"Part of my sinister plan to get you out of these clothes and onto my cock." He shimmied a hand up her blouse and started fiddling with her bra.

"Well, it's working." She slid her hand down to his length, caressing it as soon as she freed it. "Someone's ready for me."

"Told you. I'm a guy you can count on. Always ready." He winked.

"So it's time to let Mom and Giles have someone else they can rely on, too? Is that what you're saying?"

"I guess so. Joyce is a strong woman, Luv. She won't put up with any nonsense."

"Yeah. And I guess- as long as there's no band candy involved, they'll be just doing nice, old people dates. The gallery opening, a museum, a symphony, a picnic in the park."

"Band candy?" Spike tilted his head, vaguely remembering something about it, but he hadn't been involved in that fiasco.

"Magic candy some baddy sold. Everyone turned into wild, irresponsible weirdos. It totally turned my mom and Giles into horny teenagers."

"With everyone?" Spike looked nonplussed, so put off by the thought of Joyce running around like a tart after everything in trousers.

"No! God, ick. No, just Giles."

"Just Rupert?" Spike cocked his eyebrow at her.

"Yeah..." She blanched. "You don't think..."

"I think magical candy is one thing, but you'd prolly pick someone you liked, wouldn't you?" She nodded. He smirked. So that was what had let the librarian out of his book cage. And apparently into Joyce's. Well done.

Buffy laughed nervously. "It's not like that this time. That was 'Ripper'. Giles' wild side. He doesn't let it out without serious provocation."

"Like crisis time? Watchin' the woman you had once and never again nearly die, an' then nearly get taken out by Hellbitch?"

"Ummm. Yeah. Like that." Buffy slammed her head back into the pillow. "Ick. Eww. I so do not want to think about this."

"It won't be so bad, Luv. They respect each other and they love you. Not gonna put any relationship at risk." He comforted. _Or I'll rip the wanker's arms off. No one hurts my girls. Not my lover. Not Mum. Not the little one._

"I still don't want to think about that side of it. The smoochie side." Buffy frowned.

"Then think about this instead." Spike nudged himself into her sweatpants covered thigh.

"I've been thinking about it all day." She rolled to her knees and pulled her shirt slowly over her head and let the bra he'd already unhooked fall down her arms, exposing her breasts.

"Music." Spike reminded her before he lunged upwards and grabbed her.

"Can't put music- ohh ohh, yes, -on if you don't let go."

"Hide these pretties from me all day." He murmured, trailing his mouth between her nipples. "An' they say _I'm _cruel."

"Stop for a second, music!" She pushed him off, denying all of her body's cries to do the opposite, and fumbled for one of the CDs that she'd bought. Her mom had made the veiled- or maybe kinda obvious- suggestion that she and Spike used Pink Floyd every time they- _did things_. Without getting too into it and embarrassing them further, Joyce had smiled and advised "Get some new CDs".

"You didn't get a single thing on my list, did you?" Spike sat up on his knees, shifting, jeans tugging off, shirt removed.

"I did! I just- don't like anything on your list." She put in one of her favorites, Fleetwood Mac.

"Slayer." Spike groaned and rocked back, now naked, onto the bed. "I can't..."

"You'll learn to love it." She dipped her head and slowly engulfed his length in her sweet, wet mouth.

"Bloody hell..." He almost whimpered. Not his fault she was about thirty degrees warmer than the rest of him, and she liked to see him squirm. Apparently she also loved the way he tasted, because she was trying to devour him whole, starting with his stiffness.

"Do you like the music yet?"

"No." He insisted stubbornly. She pouted around his tip, green eyes giving him a sad kitten look. "No." He hardened his heart, even though his hands went down to hers and rubbed the knuckles with his thumb. _She's gonna crack me with those eyes..._

"I guess I'll have to try harder then." She pulled off for a second, and then plunged back down.

"You're convincin' me all wrong, Pet." Spike gasped after an intense five minutes of skillful tonguing and sucking. "All you're about to get for your trouble is a mouthful of Spike soup."

"Well, you'd probably give in better if I went psycho on you and started hurting you- but I don't ever want to be like that."

"Which I thank you for." He smiled and pulled her up to him, using his strong fingers to force her head away. "If you ever do want to go a bit rougher- you know I won't mind."

"But no hurting." She looked sick suddenly. She shivered.

"No! No hurtin'. What'd I always tell you? Never hurt a woman in that way." He looked sick himself. They exchanged a glance. "I'm not him."

"No. I know that." Neither had to clarify. There was only one reason Buffy had to feel threatened, to feel sure that vampires crossed boundaries in lovemaking.

"He didn't hurt you? He didn't change 'til it was done, that's what he said." Spike whispered.

"No. It was later. What he said he'd do- if he ever got the chance." Buffy shook her head. "He said later that he couldn't help telling me those things. That the demon, that Angelus, would do those things without thinking. That it's natural for demons to hurt. Fine line between pain and pleasure."

"Oh there is." Spike grimaced. "Angelus likes to look at the line- look at your face- and cross it."

"You weren't like that?"

"No. Never towards anyone I cared for." He gave a sick shiver as well, and they wordlessly wrapped more tightly to one another. "Don't you dare think I was good. Don't think, even now, that I _am_ good. But you know me."

"I do. I'm sure about you. That you'd never hurt me like he would."

"Thanks, Pet. Means a lot." He rocked her to him in silence, a sea of old red across his eyes, old screams in his ears. But never with this girl. Never again.

"You aren't big on restraint." Buffy's voice was quiet and it jarred him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, they can be fun." Spike grinned. "If you've got a- oh. Restraint. Not _restraints_. Ha."

"Pervert."

"True. Fuckin' a slayer, perverted beyond all logic." He smiled briefly.

"You couldn't hurt me like he could. You're more of a 'pull my skull off and play soccer' head games guy than a 'slowly destroy my world until I don't want to breathe' type of head games." She winced, not looking at him, looking inside.

" 'S why we get along so good, Luv. Straight for the violence. Don't bother about the emotional pain. Plenty of that in the world without me addin' to it. Well- a few little jibes, yeah. Not gonna make someone's life a livin' hell when I can just rip their throat out."

She frowned in confusion, and then looked up with a half grin. "Should it worry me that I find this oddly comforting?"

"No. Got a chip. Not in the killin' game jus' now." Spike sighed easily.

"And if it stops working?"

"No worries. I've got _you_." It was worth bagging it for the rest of his existence, as long as he could be with her. Wasn't like he wasn't getting to kill anything anymore. Just nothing edible. _Oh well, gotta have some trade off, don't we? Love you can't buy, blood you can._

She sat up and poked him lightly in the midst of his chiseled chest. "Okay. For that- we're putting on your stupid Sex Pistols punk crap. That means tomorrow is Fleetwood Mac or Devinyls."

Spike sat up. "Devinyls? Those 'I Touch Myself' chicks?"

"Don't tell me you like that song?" She gasped.

"Are you insane? Who wouldn't like that song? Okay, sure it's a bit breathy for me, but Aussie chicks are dead savage, which, _vampire_, gotta love that. Also it's all about bein' hot for your lover. Hot, an' out of control, an'-", he slid his hands down her hips, pushing her sweats off, and bringing one hand up to prod her nub gently, "thinkin' dirty little thoughts, Pet."

"You're so bad."

"I know." He grinned and they tumbled off the bed with a squeak from her and a hoarse laugh from him. After a moment of fumbling, Buffy's head popped back up over the edge of the bed, and with a herculean effort, she managed to tear herself away from Spike to put in her mix of 80s and 90s pop.

"I used to listen to that song all the time... I had a crush on this guy-" Buffy trailed off. _A guy. A guy who tried to sell me to Spike, and I think Spike turned him. He was dying of a brain tumor. But that didn't make it right..._

"What?" Spike had pulled her back against him, but she wasn't moving against him anymore.

"The guy. I think you knew him. He wanted you to turn him. In exchange for delivering me to you. A kid called 'Ford'?"

"Yeah. I'm not gonna apologize, Luv. I didn't attack him. He came to find me, an' he offered you up like a sacrificial lamb. I wanted your blood for Dru, an' here this kid was offerin' me her cure in a nice little package." He swallowed, eyes hardening. "All in all, Slayer, I'm glad we made the trade off that we did. Didn't cure Dru. But now- what can I say?" He pressed his lips to her ear, "It's nice to be loved by someone who knows they mean it, who chose it. You still-"

"Choose you every time. I'm not sure about what we did in the past. But I'm sure about the future."

"Good." He scraped his teeth along the length of her nape. "Could we postpone anymore upsettin' talk until later? There's this bloody hot woman against me, an' a song all about touching your hot little pussy somewhere on this album."

"You're not going to get all wigged because I mentioned the 'future'?" Future sent Angel into avoidance headlong, sent Parker screaming from the dorms, even though in his case "future" had meant coffee in a couple days, and Riley, oh boy. For Riley the future probably meant a house in the 'burbs and an army of little Rileys.

He thought about it. "No." No reason to. Wasn't like they would ever have more than this. "Future is what happens next. What's comin' up. Is it s'posed to scare me?"

"No. No, it isn't." She loved him more every day. This guy really got it, understood her. He spoke fluent Buffy (which could be annoying as hell, but was mostly a good thing). "Future to me- just means you're gonna be there and so am I."

"Well, duh. Silly girl." He rolled his eyes.

"Come on. We're getting back into this bed." They exchanged a smirk and launched back to their new, unchristened mattress.

"Right. Nice and eas-" She pinned him to the mattress and he arched his back instantly. "Fuck, Sweetheart..."

"We will." She grinned.

"Thought you'd like it a little slower?" She dragged her nails down his skin until they reached his under arms and then shot back up. "I can be wrong." He writhed, watching the little kitten the world saw replaced by a wildcat.

"Oh, no. I do want it slow. And hard. And good. You make me happy." She leaned down and wrapped her hands around his neck, holding him in a gnawing kiss.

He dug his hands into her back and moved in slow sinuous thrust, finding his mark and entering it. She gasped and he held her fast. "Shh. Shh, you stay there. Gonna get worked in real good." He pumped his hips up and in, slowly, slowly, torturing them both in his patient deliberateness.

"No complaints." She breathed. Each thrust seemed to part her further and further until she felt a sudden twinge when he was in as far as she could take. He'd been in that far before. But only him. He was the kind who liked to push his limits. So did she. Another proof he was perfect for her. "Unghhh, Baby." She groaned when his tip jabbed her, sending a radiating ripple of intensity through her from waist to toes.

"You like that, Buffy?"

"Uh-huh." Kind of a strange feeling, having him so inside her. Not just in her body, in her head. She squeezed experimentally around him and they both let out a choked moan. "God..."

"I owe him one. Makin' you so hot an' so tight, fuck!" He lost control of his train of thought when she bounced on him, still held to his chest, her hips just wriggling slightly. "No, no, not fuck, sorry. No, better than- bloody hell, love you." He blathered incoherently, one hand on her lower back, one hand ceaselessly petting her hair.

"I got it, I got it. Love you, too." She struggled up a little, but found herself spun onto her back.

"Slow an' hard? That was the request?" He snarled against her neck.

"Faster if you want."

"I just want you."

"I just want you inside me." Buffy breathed.

"We're going to get along just fine then." He smirked and they shared a laugh. He felt her change subtly when the song they'd been waiting for came on. "Relivin' your teen fantasies, Luv?" He teased.

"Nope. Living new ones." She purred.

* * *

><p><em>I love myself. I want you to love me<em>

_When I feel down, I want you above me_

_I search myself, I want you to find me_

_I forget myself, I want you to remind me_

* * *

><p>"You're the fantasy guy now." She panted as he surged insider her. He did all that. Reminded her who she was, recognized her for who she was, and never tried to change her.<p>

* * *

><p><em>I don't want anybody else<em>

_When I think about you, I touch myself_

* * *

><p>"I think I can manage that." He bit her lip in his eagerness to kiss her, to drink her down. All that love and all for him.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Ooh I don't want anybody else Oh no, oh no, oh no <em>

_You're the one who makes me come running_

_You're the sun who makes me shine_

_When you're around I'm always laughing_

_I want to make you mine_

* * *

><p>"Buffy." Dammit, she made him lose control. He was all cool and hard , gettin' over Dru. Before her. Now he was literally hooked on this girl. An' yeah, they'd never have some big commitment, but she was his. "You're my girl, aren't you, Buffy?"<p>

_I close my eyes and see you before me_

_Think I would die if you were to ignore me_

_A fool could see just how much I adore you_

_I get down on my knees, I do anything for you _

Was he stupid? She was his girl in every way. Every place on her body, inside and out, was his marked by fingers, fangs, teeth, his cock, his seed. "I'm your girl. You're my guy, aren't you?" He nodded, mouth currently full of her decolletage, unable to speak.

_I don't want anybody else._

_When I think about you I touch myself._

_Ooh I don't want anybody else_

_Oh no, oh no, oh no_

He released her at last, admiring the wet, red shape of his kiss between her breasts. "Good, 'cause you're it for me. You understand?" The song was all soft and pulsing, but he was slipping into a harder, faster, deeper rhythm. Any minute now the game face was gonna break through...

_I want you. I don't want anybody else._

_And when I think about you I touch myself_

_Ooh, ooh, oo, oo ahh _

"What, you think I could go back to someone else after I had you?" She whispered. He was amazing. Powerful and pounding, and giving the term "breaking in" an entirely new meaning as they made love in their bed for the first time.

"I know_ I _can't. You're a damn fine Slayer, Pet. You have me dead to rights."

_I don't want anybody else, when I think about you_

_I touch myself. Ooh I don't want anybody else_

_Oh no, oh no, oh no _

"You're the Slayer of Slayers, Big Bad. You caught me. Bagged me." They grinned, praising each other.

"Can I?" He licked his incisors once and she nodded, an amused expression on her face. He didn't have to ask anymore. It was almost like her orgasm trigger now. Having one, or about to have one, a bite set the whole thing off like a powder keg and gasoline tanker.

"Please, Baby." She gasped and he changed. He purred instead of snarled. He wasn't going in for the kill, he was going to mate, at least according to his demon side. He waited, pounding into her harder and harder, pushing her over the edge, walking that fine line of pain and pleasure, but unlike some, he knew which side he was on, and kept to it. "I love you, Spike." She bit him first, on his ear, scraping her teeth along it as her head lolled back, opening her neck up to him.

"Love you. M-My girl." He sank in gently with his teeth, but hard with his shaft, confusing her senses with the mixture of pounding, sucking, a sharp pinch of teeth, and gentle soothing lips around it. Confused her until the only thing that made sense was for her to explode, a supernova of hot juices that collided with his.

He didn't let go even when his teeth retracted. Buffy felt hims swallowing and sucking greedily. She felt a faint tingle of apprehension, not fear, just concern. Was he hungry? Really hungry? He said her blood made him so strong, so well fed...

"Didn't miss a drop." He whispered, sounding pleased with himself. "Bedspread remains intact." He sealed up her wounds, leaving her scarless. He never marked her skin, _his_ skin, to love and cherish.

She laughed. "That was what you were doing? I thought maybe you were hungry, poor baby."

_The slayer worries if I'm gettin' enough to eat. The world is on its head._ "I'm very, very satisfied." He licked his lips and brushed his hand across his mouth.

"It's my blood. I don't mind it. Not more than if I I ever bit my lip or the inside of my cheek." She kissed him once, as if to prove it.

"You really are mine." He smirked. He'd come so close to making a claim statement on her. Calling her "mine" in the midst of a bite. Not done. Never would be, probably. He'd switched to "my girl" during the act, but now it was safe.

"I'm all yours." She settled comfortably against him. Soon she heard him humming, not to the song that was currently playing, but to the one they'd just heard a moment ago. "When I think about you I touch myself..." She teasingly sang along with his humming.

"Oh, you know you did." He grinned, tongue rolling up behind his teeth, teasing smile broadening.

"No! Well- maybe a couple times." She admitted. "Did you?"

"Hell, yes." He said, perfectly at ease. "Why you gonna get shy on me now, Luv? You already know I'm crazy about you- an' there was a time when we didn't see much of each other."

"Not my fault you're really sexy and good at this." She blushed.

"Oh, my Baby knows I like that she touches. And teaches me. Biggest turn on outside of bein' inside of you is when you show me 'round that little paradise." He nudged his hand down between her legs. "All delicate and mysterious."

"You- not so much." She wrapped her hand around him. "Still, there's plenty of things to explore." She cupped and massaged him back to full hardness in a matter of moments.

"When I think about you-" He rumbled against her cheek as they spooned together, only they were face to face.

Such a smoky voice. All sex, whiskey, and cigarettes. Yummy. "I'm glad you're here with me."

"Me, too." Their arms crisscrossed as they pulled together in a hug. Soon he pulled her thigh up, draped it across his back, moving into her.

"I'm glad Mom and Giles can have someone, too. Even if it isn't like this."

"Agreed." He inhaled her scent, the scent of wet sex, blood, and hormones racing all around her. "Don't start thinkin' about those two again. Let me keep your mind off it. I recall, under less happier circumstances, that I'm excellent at distracting you."

"You are. Totally are." She wriggled him deeper inside. She relaxed completely around him, arms flung around his neck and back to hold him close. She knew her mom and Giles wouldn't ever have this, not this exactly- but- Spike worshipfully kissed her and made her lose track of her thoughts momentarily- it would be nice for them to have companionship.

* * *

><p>"Would you like to stop in for a nightcap, Joyce?" Giles offered as he drove the red sports car away from the glittery gala opening of the museum exhibit.<p>

"I'd love to, Rupert." She tucked her shawl around her as the breeze wafted in the convertible.

"I can put the top up if you'd rather." He offered, noticing her actions.

"No, I'm fine. It's a lovely night." She smiled at him, and then self consciously patted her hair forward, covering her patch of skin, hair just beginning to grow long enough to cover her scar. "I should've worn a scarf. Only, it was such a beautiful dress, and the shawl, I didn't have something to go with it." She fussed again.

"You look beautiful." He said firmly, reaching out and gently tapping her forearm. "I was the envy of all men."

"Smooth talker." She blushed and smiled widely.

"It's the accent. Everything sounds smooth." He sighed inside when he heard her silvery laugh, something he'd rarely heard in their brief association. Not so brief- over five years now. Five very bumpy years.

"It does sound very refined. When you want it to." She gave a sidelong look and it was his turn to blush. Oh, yes. Tweedy but determined, that was how she'd started to think of him- until the candy. Then she saw him as a man who was in excellent control of himself. He was able to call up all the anger and fire of a much a younger, much more rebellious- and, if she was being candid, studly, man, and put it firmly back down when he was done using it. The candy might have triggered the first occurrence she'd seen, but she'd seen it a few times since. It was intriguing. A thoroughly interesting man.

"Well... I'm glad you like it." He gave the higher pitched little titter that meant he was slightly unnerved.

"I do. It's charming."

"Fitting for your ears, then, Joyce." He murmured and watched her eyes twinkle.

They pulled into the small lot surrounding his apartment, and he sprang out to open her door. _Every inch a gentleman. That's what I must be. Because she certainly is every inch a lady. A lady who doesn't hesitate to stick a sword into the back of a vicious hell goddess. God, what a woman..._

"Rupert? Are you coming?" Joyce turned to see her escort for the evening standing by the car with a bemused smile on his face.

"Oh. Yes, just thinking." He trotted up to his flat and held the door for her. "Light switch just there-" He gestured and she flipped the switch. "Now, what can I get you? Tea, coffee? Something stronger?" He took her shawl.

"What were you going to have, Rupert?"

"Hm. A whiskey perhaps? Or a brandy? Just the one of course, and I'm sure I'll be able to drive after."

"Oh, I'm sure you will. You strike me as the type who holds his liquor."

Recalling the events of this past Christmas, he had to smile. "As do you."

"So long as I'm supervised. Oh- oh no. Wait. Blood thinners. I can't. One glass of wine every few days, that's what they say."

"And you used up your free pass at dinner tonight with the Cabernet." He hastily replaced the two glasses he had gotten out and put the kettle on instead.

"It was a lovely choice. Thank you."

"My pleasure." He began assembling tea things on a tray.

"Oh, no, Rupert. Have your drink. No need for you to suffer with me."

"I'm feeling more like something hot and comforting." He grinned. And then blushed. "With lemon." He added hastily. _Hot and comforting. Why did hot and comforting equal sex? Since when were words being used to describe tea interchangeable with words associated with intercourse? T_hat was unthinkable. Completely and utterly un-British of him._ At least I didn't say, "warm and wet". Dear God, listen to me..._

"Sugar for me."

"Of course." He was grateful when the kettle sang and he could pour the hot water into his blue willow pattern china, get back to her, talk himself out of this uncomfortable spot in his mind.

Joyce stood by his record player as he entered. With a reminiscent smile she switched it on.

_You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,_

_But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun._

_And the colors of the sea blind your eyes with trembling mermaids,_

_And you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave Ulysses..._

The tea tray tipped in his hands as he watched her slowly swaying in her black dress, hands on either side of the record player. He had barely managed to make it to the coffee table before he sat it down with a clatter. "Remember this?" She grinned at him, aware of his entrance now that he had made a ruckus with the tray.

"Joyce..." His voice died away, too many words fighting to get out, and instead, he remained gagged by his own thoughts. He remembered it of course. How could he not? That was the song they had listened to. That day. They started out sharing a chocolate comfort snack, worrying over Buffy, her responsibilities, her life, her training, her school. So much in common, locked in a world of suits, children, and adulthood.

Then the chocolate took hold. Smoking, drinking, laughing. Young again. Trapped in an enchanted haze by wizard's candy. They had so much in common, back then. Young and free, and in love with the music. Lost to one another in the heat of the moment, all the old lusts and drives made new again. Hm. Lusts made new again- several times- on the hood of a police car no less.

When it was over, they never mentioned it. Sometimes they exchanged an awkward glance or smile. So many times, he'd wished, he'd thought, if only he'd met Joyce twenty years ago, they could have been friends. Maybe more. Wasn't it too late? He'd pushed the relationship past the status you could pick up and go back to the beginning with.

At least, that's what he'd told himself, until Spike, _Spike_ of all cretinous creatures, pointed out that he'd almost lost her for good, and that he must be kicking himself. Even his feeble protestations that Joyce and he no longer could have that kind of relationship were met with derision. _"Well, relationships go all wonky around here." _And look at Spike and Buffy. Deadly foes turned devoted lovers. If that was any indication of "wonky", he had to take a chance. "Joyce..." He tried again.

"It was on already." She felt her color rising. Maybe he thought she was trying to initiate something. All that babble about his voice. His charm. He must think her laughable. She was a woman, he was a man, both in their forties. But handsome, intelligent men could have their pick of young beauties. Look at Hank, he certainly proved that theory. Giles would probably end up with some young thing, a witch or a demonologist, pretty, dangerous, exciting. Like him. He didn't belong in the world of a divorced gallery owner with two half-grown daughters and a whopping mortgage on a house. No matter that the house was in a vampire infested town, and no one could call her children even remotely average. "I just pushed the needle in place."

"I know it's on. I listen to it. Quite a bit lately." He muttered, and came to her side.

"You do?"

"I rather enjoy remembering the first time I heard it with you." He slowly reached past her and turned the volume up. He watched her slowly turn her head. Coyly, a flicker of a smile on her lips.

Or was it uncomfortableness, not coyness? Perhaps she thought he was trying to press her into a reenactment of their one burst of sexual fervor. That might be. He had been careful to keep their dates ambiguous. Something she could feel was platonic, in case she didn't want to form a romantic entanglement. She had never made any advances to him, not in the two years that passed since that day. She'd had others since then, probably. He had.

The dates, although he never called them that, always referred to them as "outings", had been related to arts and culture. They could be taken as friendly gestures. She probably wouldn't want to rekindle something that had been so hasty and ill advised. What did he have to offer a graceful, fiery woman like Joyce? He'd been unemployed for half the time she'd known him, he had a dangerous line of work, and he had been directly responsible for endangering her daughter too many times to count.

"You like to think about that day?" She turned to face him fully, finding him staring at her without really seeing her.

"I in no way wanted to remind you, that is to say," he fumbled for words, almost stammering like a school boy, "I didn't ask you in for a nightcap for anything but friendly- no, not like- oh dear Lord. I don't seem to be making myself very clear."

"I'll give you that." She tilted her head and watched his face in the shadowy light of the living room.

"I meant it as a gesture of friendship." He tried to explain._ I wasn't trying to get you into my bed. Not like that._

"You've been a perfect gentleman." She sounded slightly more tired than she had a minute ago, and the spark dimmed in her eyes. "I think I may have misunderstood. About these- outings." She shook her head and pressed one hand to her temple. "I'm sorry, Rupert, I think I'd like to go home now, if you don't mind."

He nodded. Then shook his head. "Please stay." He said hoarsely.

Something in his voice, in the way his hand suddenly weighed on her arm, made her decide to try and brave one cup of tea before she gave in to feeling undesirable and confused. She nodded and sat on the couch.

"I meant, Joyce, that the music wasn't intended to be some sort of emotional trigger." He swallowed and handed her now cooling tea.

"I would never expect you to resort to playing on my feelings, Rupert." She reassured.

"No. No, but I don't mean that tonight was a friendly gesture. None of this has been meant as friendly. No, oh bloody hell-" he sighed and snared a sip of tea with a frustrated breath, "I want you to know my friendship stands. I didn't however, mean for this to be strictly on a friendship basis." He stared into the depths of the brown liquid. "Of course, that's up to you. But if I could just explain?"

Hope and girlish excitement pushed into Joyce's heart. "If you'd like to tell me, I'd be glad to listen."

No one said anything for a moment. When Giles did speak it was almost inaudible. "I thought I'd lost you. Three times this year."

"It was a bad year-" Joyce let him plow over her when she saw the ferocity in his eyes.

"When Buffy told me you were ill, I was terrified. But I wasn't panicked. I knew they could do something for you. It wasn't shoved in my face. That I might lose my second chance." He inhaled sharply. "But then you were fine, and we were busy. I waited. I am a damn fool, Joyce." His eyes burned into hers with a painful look of self-loathing. "I waited." He shook his hand and raked it through his hair in a distracted fury. "When Spike called me- when they told me- you had an aneurysm, I thought I'd well and truly blown it. I know a bit about brain surgery, believe it or not. I looked up a lot when you were ill, and even before when Spike reported the Initiative was performing some kind of surgery on demons. When he said 'cerebral aneurysm' I almost had one myself, darling." He closed his eyes in painful memory.

"You know I would have died if he hadn't heard it first. There are no warning signs. Nothing humans can detect." Joyce's own eyes closed in memory. Terrified didn't even describe the range of emotions she felt when she realized that only a man, supposedly one of the most evil in the world, had stood between her and eternity, leaving her babies alone in one of the darkest times of their lives.

"For that, I owe Spike more than he'll ever know. But- please don't tell him that." They exchanged a grin.

"You know he's a nice, sweet, man at heart, Giles."

"No, I don't know that." Giles laughed softly. "But I am willing to be convinced at this point." He plucked up his courage, willed Ripper to come to the front, but not the surface. "D'you know when it clicked, Joycie?"

"Clicked?" He hadn't called her Joycie since that one night, long ago. It made her feel a rush of her old teen hedonism come up under the deep seriousness she felt.

"Clicked that I didn't get any more free passes. That I'd better do something if I wanted a chance to be with you. It was when Glory said 'It's one of you three'. She meant you, Dawn, and Buffy, of course. And she said she had enough power to take out just one of you." His hard eyes were still hard but tears glinted in the corner of each one. "I knew what you'd do."

"Rupert- they're my babies. I had to." She took his hand in her own, feeling iron fingers tighten on hers.

"You would have thrown yourself down for them. I know that. Because if she could only take one- you'd want her to take you. I watched you. I should have watched Buffy, Ben, Spike, Dawn- anyone but you, probably, but I watched you. I've seen that look in your eyes before. What's more, I've seen it a million times over in Buffy's eyes, and I know it means she's not afraid to take on something she might not survive. That was the moment I knew I would kill that boy- not to save anyone else, save the world, as much as to save you." He swallowed and looked at the floor. "That makes me a very selfish, ignoble man. The world didn't tip the scales. Not even my Slayer. I mean they did enter into my mind- but you were my deciding factor."

Joyce let her free hand lightly touch his cheek. "We're all okay, Rupert."

"I am more grateful for that than you can imagine." He whispered. "But I refuse to waste any more time."

"Waste time?" Joyce blinked, not entirely sure what he meant.

"It isn't that I want to rush things-" He paused, and then stood up in a fury of determination. He lost his head, yanked Joyce to her feet, fingers tight around her elbows, teacups breaking, tea sloshing all over the floor below, coffee table sliding as he rammed his shins into it. He didn't give a damn. Sod the cups, the table, the hardwood floor. His glasses, as well, he tore them off his face and tossed them onto the table with a clatter. "No! I _do _want to rush things. Half of our lives are gone! I've spent it without a woman of my own, and you've spent it with a man too blind and ignorant to see what he had. I want you- to be with me, Joyce. Joycie." He kissed her surprised, parted lips with a gruntand then stepped back.

_ Either I have just made the most colossal ass of myself, or I've come off very brave and masculine. Either way... I took the risk. I didn't waste another precious day._

"Rupert. Ripper." She smiled and ran a hand over her cheek self-consciously, and then over his. "I'm-not like you and Buffy. I'm average."

"Please don't let that matter to you. It doesn't matter to me." He pleaded. "Besides the fact that you are_ not_ ordinary, Joyce Summers. Need I remind you that you split Spike's skull with a fire ax and drove a sword into the back of a deposed goddess? You may not have magical powers, Joycie, but you are so far above average. You are so very special, my love."

"It seems a little sudden? Maybe?" She shrugged half-heartedly, trying to keep herself calm and reasonable, not give into the undercurrent of desire she could feel between them.

"Sometimes if you're sure, Love, you're sure." He pressed his lips more gently, more slowly to hers. "Won't you just give it a try?"

"I'd love to." She kissed him back this time.

He didn't know how it happened. How the couch suddenly was under them, how strings and buttons and zips were unfastening in a blinded frenzy of kissing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had a thought he was sure had died with Jenny. _This is the one for me._

Her hands were soft on his shoulders and her eyes were softer still, like a warm waiting pool of light he'd been waiting for to guide him out of loneliness and darkness. Into love, into life, into a family even. "Are you sure? I did want to rush- but not- not this aspect, that is unless you-" He was still a gentleman. Even Ripper knew how to bide his time...

"Shhhh." She tangled her hands in his short, gray hair, marveling at the tenderness yet firmness of his touch, that his lips pressed a feather light kiss to her healing scar. "I'm sure."

* * *

><p><em>To Be Continued.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**If You're Sure**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life.,_

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes..._

_Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_A chapter devoted pretty evenly to Joyce and Giles and Spike and Buffy. Sorry if you were hoping for strictly Spuffy, but I've got to get the bride and groom's relationship going too!_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Smile Time, Msnycegirl0820, McPastey, and jmoran 319_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part III

_About six weeks before the wedding..._

"They're like owls. Or those raccoons that live in the desert." Dawn's voice whispered.

"Honey, don't compare your sister to an animal. What about desert raccoons?"

"I read it somewhere." Dawn insisted.

"Pet. Wake up, Buffy." Spike grunted sleepily and blinked. Late afternoon. His vampiric hearing tipped him off almost as much as his sense of time. If Bit was home, and Joyce was home, it must be after school ended, not that it was a factor in summer. But Joyce was never home as early as this. "Slayer!" He hissed.

"Huh?" Buffy sat up quickly.

"Your mum an' sis are outside the door. Comparin' us to everything from night crawlers to possums."

"What?" Buffy sprang up and climbed over him, grabbing a shirt from the edge of the bed and a pair of athletic shorts from the drawer. She flung open the door to their room and confronted her mother and sister. "Why are we being compared to everything from night crawlers to possums?" She demanded, hands on hips.

Her mother and sister said nothing. They didn't even really look at her. "Uh, Slayer? You think you could close the door? Or hand me some clothes?" Spike asked tersely from his spot in their bed, covers pulled up to his shoulders, a long suffering expression on his face.

"Oh! Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Buffy whirled and slammed the door in her mother and sister's faces. Then she turned, her back pressed to the door, facing Spike as he lazily got up, stretched, and pulled on a pair of black sweats and red tee shirt. "I am so, sooo sorry, Honey. I'm still getting used to it." _Plus, my family avoids this room like the plague if we're in here together. They must think all we do is have wild sex whenever we're left alone. That's mostly true..._

"You called me honey." He smirked. "Makes my near humiliation acceptable."

Making sure he was decent and on his feet, Buffy prepared to face her mother and sister. "I wasn't thinking. Whoa. Seriously not thinking." Buffy reopened the door, this time Spike stood behind her.

"That's better." Joyce said with a tense smile.

"You've no idea." Spike mumbled and they shared a short chuckle of understanding.

"Why are we like possums?" Buffy demanded of her sister.

"Nocturnal. Duh. You two fight most of the night and sleep most of the day." Dawn put her hands sassily on her hips and shook her head. "I was telling Mom it'd be a miracle if she got to talk to you before four."

"We're usually up way before that." Buffy said defensively. "There was just a lot of stuff to do last night and we were tired." All three adult figures fixed Dawn with a warning glare, daring her to make a comment. The teen rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry I called you guys possums or desert raccoons, geeez. C'mon, Spike, I'll heat your blood up for you."

"You go ahead," Joyce said quickly. "I really just wanted to ask Buffy something, and then she can discuss it with you."

"If you're sure, Luvs?" Spike took the nod and allowed Bit to pull him down the stairs.

"Spike, were you alive during the Civil War?" Dawn asked casually.

"Bloody hell. Do you have homework?" Spike groaned

"Summer reports. I'll make hot cocoa _and_ blood." She wheedled,

"Oh. Ohh, fine, lemme see the books..."

Joyce smiled warmly. "That boy is a godsend."

"Uhhh. Okay, I'm not sure about that." Buffy shrugged.

"Do not make me do my 'mom face', Buffy." Joyce warned.

"No! Please." Buffy liked that her mother had been so happy lately. The outings with Giles had definitely turned into dates. There was outfit buying and movie attending. "I don't want you to get all big and serious."

"You know you can tell me nice things about Spike. I already understand that he isn't an ideal candidate for boyfriend. I also understand that for some odd reason, he's the best boyfriend you've ever had. I like him." Joyce said staunchly. She walked to her own room, and Buffy took her cue and followed.

"I'm glad you like him. I-" She swallowed and took a deep breath, "I love him, Mom."

"Thank God." Joyce said fervently.

"Wait, that gets a 'thank God'?" She never ceased to be amazed by her mother.

"Yes. I'd hate to see either of you get a broken heart again. He loves you." She smiled placidly.

"Really? He- he told you that?" Buffy felt a rush of tingly happiness flood her stomach. _It's so silly. I know he loves me and I love him. We're comfortable and secure in this deal we have. I don't need to turn back into a thirteen year old. Next I'll be asking what he said about me and passing notes..._

"He doesn't need to tell me, I see it in every line of his face when he looks at you. Even when you two are having one of your stupid little tiffs-"

"Hey!"

"-his face is always ready to break into a smile, just because he's so enjoying being with you. And yes. He has told me." Joyce took Buffy's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Buffy blushed a deep coral pink and cleared her throat. "I'm glad. Everything's going well. Oh- and you! You and Giles with the date-iness and the four weeks of going out. So cool."

"It seems longer than that." Joyce smiled faintly. "But maybe it has been only a month." Her eyes took on a far away gleam.

"I'm really happy for you guys. He whistles and hums all the time now. And whenever he thinks no one's watching, he's checking himself out in the mirror." They laughed together. _This is so cool. We're mother-daughter bonding over boys and dating. Wow. Maybe we're going to get to be friends, not just parent-child. It'll be like a _Lifetime_ movie come true. One of the happy ones..._

"I'm glad Rupert's happy. He makes me very happy, too. He's still trying to balance training you, helping you research and patrol, running the store, and dating into his life."

"Oh. Yeah, Mom, I'm so sorry about last night. I just didn't know how to kill that thing, and Spike was helpful at beating it to a pulp, but it kept getting back up. I'm really sorry we called and interrupted Catmandu."

"_Casablanca _and it's fine. But-" Joyce avoided her daughter's eye for a moment and spoke very casually. "I did want to talk to you about that though..."

"I promise- if there's a demon I can't kill tonight, I'll call Willow and have her wrap it in a spell bubble until your date's done." Buffy vowed.

"Sweetie-" Joyce pulled a small black bag from her wardrobe and placed it on the bed, still not looking at Buffy. "You always call if you need his help. Or mine. He's your Watcher, I'm your mother. It's our job to be there for you, and we have that in common. Actually, it's the reason we're together, so thank you." She fixed her daughter with a sudden beaming smile.

"I'm glad, Mom. I'm so glad. Maybe there's something good about me being the Slayer after all." She whispered to herself.

"Buffy." Her mother's hands were tilting her head up. "Whatever I told you before, in the past? That was negative? It was because I didn't understand. I do now. It's the hardest thing in the world for me to accept you won't have a safe, boring life. But I think that what you do is a _very good_ thing. I am so proud of my girl." She finished in a tight whisper, eyes glistening.

"Mom." All choked up, they both embraced, sighing. "Okay, gosh." Buffy laughed and sniffled hard, breaking the hug. "Look at us, we're all weepy. And you just wanted to ask me a little question." She laughed.

"Not little. And I'm not exactly asking. I'm informing, but I want you to be supportive."

"Think of me as the Wonder Bra of daughters. Fully supportive." She grinned.

"Yes, well as long as you don't try to 'lift and separate' Giles and I after I tell you-"

"Oh, God. Mom. You're not-pregnant are you?" Buffy squeaked.

"No." Her mother said grimly. Buffy collapsed onto her bed with a long exhalation. "And thank you for your support..."

"Sorry, sorry, if you were- well, color me babysitter."

"It is sort of on the same lines as what you mentioned. Buffy, I'm planning to spend tonight at Giles' okay?"

"Sure, Mom." Buffy nodded. That was the plan for last night- take out and _Casablanca _at his place. Only it had gotten totally ruined thanks to an Ig'mauchash or something Ig-ishy demon.

"When I say spend tonight- I mean, _spend the night_. As in, I'll be back tomorrow and don't wait up."

"Whoa. Wow. Ewww." Buffy went through a scope of emotions, realization that the relationship mush be serious, joy and wonder that her mother and father-figure were finding happiness, and revulsion because picturing- no. No picturing allowed.

"I'm sorry?" Joyce bit off the words, fixing her daughter with a harsh stare as she made her noise of disgust.

"You're just 'talking'?" Buffy figured turn about was fair play.

"Yes. 'Talking'. Like you and Spike_ talk_. Lovingly and respectfully." Joyce smiled, relaxing when Buffy began to nod in acceptance. " Maybe with Pink Floyd, although I'm feeling kind of Hendrix-y."

"Yeah. Hendrix."

"You're okay with this, aren't you, Baby?" Joyce sat beside Buffy on the bed.

"Mom, I'm totally okay with it." She realized she meant it. Not to focus on the details, but at least she knew the two adults she loved most would be safe and well-treated with the person they had chosen. "Can I ask a question?"

"Anything." Joyce rubbed her back.

"Is it serious, this 'talking'? A-and the dating?"

"I think so." She stood and began packing a few toiletries in her overnight bag. "It's very early to tell though, Sweetie."

"No, I know that. And Giles is a very slow, steady kind of guy. He doesn't rush into things, usually."

Joyce pictured the fevered lover on top of her, on the couch, on the floor, upstairs in his room. The passionate man who had grabbed her arms and said he didn't want to wait for the second half of their lives to pass them by. But that had not been rushed. Sudden, but not rushed. "Yes, he never makes a move unless he's sure."

"And _you're_ sure? This is a big step."

"Yes, Honey, I'm sure." Joyce replied with a patient smile.

* * *

><p>"She's not? She isn't." Spike choked on his blood. Maybe the little marshmallows should be reserved for cocoa.<p>

"Totally is." Dawn licked Dorito dust off her finger and passed him the bag of spicy chips.

"They're not even engaged!" Spike's Victorian moral outrage, something he had thought was dead as his human self, flared up when Joyce was concerned. Sure, he knew that she and the Watcher had gotten friendly. But spending the night. Well- he spent the night. He couldn't envision Joyce and Giles being left alone all night together without also picturing what he and Buffy used to do, their secret- okay, not secret, but stolen- moments of raw passion. In his mind, he knew he wouldn't ever leave Buffy, nor would she leave him. He wanted Joyce to have some sort of guarantee, something binding. "They haven't even been goin' out for more than a month!"

"Uh- you do know I get what you and Buffy do upstairs, right? You didn't just start sleeping in her bed because she lost Mr. Gordo." Dawn crossed her arms.

"That's different. Your mother is a lady." Spike said stiffly.

"And my sister isn't?" Dawn's eyes narrowed menacingly.

"No! She's- she's...bloody fuckin' brilliant." He sighed, eyes going all dreamy. "Oh. Sorry, Niblet."

"It's okay Spike. I've seen R-rated movies before." She patted his arm, smiling inside when he didn't pull away. He never pulled away from her anymore. Even cooler, he still treated her like an adult.

"It's not like your sis an' I get the option, y'see." He tried to explain. "Don't need some formal commitment, we've got a truce." Life, death, love, blood, sex- we're so wrapped up together there's nothing more I could do, even if I wanted to. Which I don't.

"A truce. Real sexy." Dawn goaded.

"Oi. You wanna read seventeen pages about the Reconstruction for your summer project, or you want me to tell you what happened? At least- what the papers in England said was happenin' at the time."

"Okay, okay. You're so sensitive about her." Dawn rolled her eyes.

"I am not." He denied hotly.

"It's okay, geez, Spike." Dawn leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "I love her, too."

"Pint-sized piece with a big mouth." He smirked and looked at her text book. "You get that from your sis."

"Yeah, but on _me_ it looks good." Dawn preened, and Spike couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

><p>"I thought you were okay with it?" Buffy took one corner and Spike took the other.<p>

"I am. I'd feel a bit better if I knew what his intentions were." Spike insisted stubbornly, pulling the new burgundy sheets into place.

"His intentions are honorable. It's Giles!" Buffy finished the remains of her Slurpee that they'd gotten at the mall.

"Honorable or not, I'd like to know 'em. If Joyce gets hurt- she's strong like you, Luv. But she doesn't have her flip side anymore." Spike murmured, coming up behind his lover and wrapping his roughened fingers around her waist.

"So she won't have someone to let it out with?" Buffy finished his unspoken thought.

"I know she has you. 'S not the same as a partner is it?"

"No. No, I guess not." She smiled grimly and winced as she rotated her shoulder.

"Here." Spike abruptly moved her sideways and onto the bed. She tried to remain standing and he tugged her down to sit between his knees. "Here. Buffy!"

His tone stilled her. In a second she felt his fingers kneading the pulled muscle in her upper back. "Wh- what are you doing?"

"That demon we were beatin' the hell out of. Strained your arm." He looked back over at the bedside table. In the top draw was a bottle of KY but he doubted that was good for massages. "I'll get the heating pad. Your Slayer strength just needs a boost. Get comfy."

She blinked and watched him walk to the bathroom. "Huh?" She finally managed to say.

"Where is it?" Spike ignored her and rummaged under the counter. "Biiiiit?"

"Whaaaat?" Dawn opened her door and looked out. "Oh, Buffy, you're home from patrol early."

"I never made it back out after the mall."

"Oh, take a night off." She waved her hand carelessly. "That big regurgitating monster was enough to wear out anybody."

"It was a regeneratin' monster an' where's the effin' heatin' pad?" Spike straightened up and faced Dawn.

"It should be there with all the 'girl' supplies."

"Oh." Spike opened the small closet in the corner and awkwardly prodded some things on the shelf aside. "Found it." If vampires could blush he would be. In all his years he'd never been with a human an' he'd never been exposed to so much of the "humanness" as he had in a few short months of staying with the Summers. In his days, women kept everything reproductive strictly private.

"Can I stay up?" Dawn and Buffy watched Spike flinchingly rearrange the contents of the shelf and back away.

"No, no one is. We're all going to be responsible and sleep." Buffy yawned. She wasn't exactly tired but she was sore and achey. Nothing more fun than hacking a demon into little tiny pieces than having those little tiny pieces keep reattaching and re-growing and needing to be battled over and over and over...

"Okay. Night guys." Dawn blew each of them a kiss and received warm smiles in return.

"You were s'posed to get comfy." Spike nudged her along. "Take your things off an' lay down." He was kicking himself. This was his fault prob'ly. He thought with his cock more than his brain when she was near him. They'd made love a few times during the day, and he'd drank from her last night, and again during one of today's bouts of passion. She was probably weakened and not healing fast as normal due to him. An' while he knew she was tough and she didn't need someone to nursemaid around her, she didn't deserved to get used. No more sips until she was better.

"What are you doing?" Buffy slowly undressed and lied down after putting in a Nirvana CD.

"Tryin' to make your shoulder feel better. Then I can go do a quick patrol." He was surprised to see her glare. "Now what?"

"Don't you dare go Riley on me." She warned.

"Don't say that whoring bastard's name." Spike threatened right back. "I might be an evil murderous creature, but I will not be compared to that blind prat."

Shaken by the intensity of his words, Buffy relented. "You're taking care of me and offering to do my job. Kind of a big gig with Riley."

"Yeah, see I'm not stupid enough to think you can't handle yourself. I thought you might like some heat for the shoulder. God knows you look after me when I get hurt. It's what we do. Not mollycoddlin' you, merely offerin' you a hot pad." He tossed it angrily on the bed. "Put it back if you've a mind to. I won't be. Not touchin' your 'girl' supplies again."

She watched him strip out of his shirt and boots, then throw open the window, letting the humid summer air mix with the scent of his freshly lit cigarette.

"Spike-"

"Aren't I your reflection anymore? Your flip side?" He didn't look at her.

She melted inside, and not in a happy way. In a pained way. He could never lose that place in her heart. It was unchangeable as being Chosen. "Of course, but-"

"But what? Thought I was the one person you could show a little soft side to. God knows you try to make my life good." He perched on the sill, facing away, bitterness in every syllable.

She slowly rose and went over to him, pressing her naked chest into his bare back. "Would you come rub my shoulder some more? It felt good."

"I will in a minute." He blew a wave of blue smoke from his nose and kept his lips tight and thin. He could almost taste the worry coming from her, and he sighed. "Think I may have overreacted a bit."

"So did I." She commiserated. "I think I got used to Angel and Riley always trying to protect me."

"Yeah. Dumb asses." Spike laughed harshly.

"I don't need to be protected."

"Got it, Luv."

"Taken care of, alone, in our bedroom is so different though." She trailed her fingers up and across his sinewy arms and neck.

"Smart girl." Her scent and her naked, warm breasts on his back were drivin' him mad. And drivin' the demon to the front. She had her arms so close to his mouth as she held him tight...

"I'm going to go get snuggly. Join me in a second?"

"Nope, gonna join you right now." He stubbed the cigarette out and flung it far away. He shut the blinds and window tightly and stalked with her to the bed, purring his eagerness for her. And then stopping in mid-thrum. "You just rest, Pet. I won't go out unless you want me to."

"I don't want you out. I want you _in._" She smiled meaningfully and bucked her hips gently as she lay face down.

Dammit. That perfect little ass, and oh, fuck, was she reaching under- she was. Her scent hit him hard as she parted her lips gently. "I want that, too." He leaned his weight on the bed and rubbed her back in firm circles. "Love you, Buffy."

"Love you. Always be my flip side."

"An' you're always mine. Damned stubborn, unshakable soft spot."

"We're just that good." She rolled her hips again, nudging his leg as it rested between hers. "So where's the 'in' part of this?"

"I was tryin' to let you rest a bit. Don't go spreadin' this around, but I did learn to go without." He chuckled in her ear, lips pressing her skin softly.

"I am an expert in going without. I hold the record in going without-ness." She rolled over onto her back without preamble and hooked one slim hand in his waistband. "But we don't have to anymore. Now we go _with_. Lots and lots of _with_."

Her nose wrinkled in that adorable smile and he felt himself give in. He'd never been very good at denying his partners, nor himself. Unless he was pissed off, but that was different. "Just one thing, Luv?"

"Name it." She said easily, perfectly at ease in her offer. He would never hurt her.

"Don't ask for a bite."

"Why?" Dammit, now that was the one thing she would want. _I bet he did that to drive me insane. He'd never hurt me, but annoy me until I want to attack him with a chopstick? Yeah. He'd do that._

"I think you're not healed up 'cause of me. Drank you a little bit since you've been injured. Actually I've been drinkin' you quite a lot, these days."

"You never take much at all." Buffy hastily reassured him. This time she was touched, not annoyed. This was a completely un-Riley, totally un-Angel thing to do. Angel wouldn't have bit at all, he wouldn't have been able to maintain control, stop without killing her. Even if they had continued a sexual relationship, he couldn't be trusted to control himself. She saw that now, painful as it was. As for Riley, well Riley didn't understand biting. Obviously.

"No, but I take a little sip fairly often. An' I don't think you miss it, Luv. But you hurt, so I figure you need all you've got." Why is she just lookin' at me like that? Where's the argument? Where's the bitching? "Slayer? You gonna spit out some retort, or should I start?"

"What?" She looked at him, still with a half-dreamy, contemplative look on her face.

"You. You're lookin' at me an' not talkin'. It's unnatural, you're a mouthy little thing."

Even his bluntness didn't diminish what she was feeling for him, instead it made her smile and shake her head. "You know why I'm looking at you? Because you're my kind of man. Fine, no bites for a day. I can take it." She pulled him down suddenly. "My shoulder feels better already."

"Good." He mumbled against her lips, eyes closing as he tasted her.

"You keep reminding me of why I love you. One thing I love? You don't hurt. And you actually get that you don't have to use your fists, or even your words to hurt me. You have the whole 'put me first' thing going on. Which no other guy seemed to know how to do."

"I'm an expert." He whispered. "It's only 'cause I know you so well."

"Makes me love you more." She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him further, deeper to her, both of them starting to struggle with his zipper and jeans.

* * *

><p>"Joyce?" Giles looked at the sleeping woman curled up beside him. "Joycie?"<p>

"Rupert?" She sat up, hands immediately reaching for her head, her missing locks.

"Stop that, Luv." Giles snagged her fingertips and kissed them gently. "Don't give a damn about your hair."

"Uh, it's a genetic thing. Haven't you noticed? Dawn and Buffy both have gorgeous hair. My sister does. I try."

"You succeed." He fondled the waves that were slightly crunched from nestling between her neck and his arm.

"Flatterer."

"No, no." Giles laughed in his higher pitched, fluting laugh that he reserved for when he was feeling especially giddy. "I'm being truthful." He looked down at her, giddiness leaving. "Very, very truthful." He ran the sandy blonde curls through his fingers.

"Rupert..." She breathed, eyes drifting shut, waiting for his lips to descend on hers. He didn't disappoint. When he pulled back, after several minutes, kisses deepening and burning, he looked down at her with an unusually intense gaze. On Giles, that was quite a claim.

"I love you." He stated very simply, very quietly.

Her mouth trembled open and shut, a soft gasp escaping her. "Oh."

"Oh." That was not the reaction he'd been hoping for. Not at all. "I- hrmm. I'm sorry. I should have waited to tell you that." He gave a short embarrassed cough and guilty smile.

"It's a lovely thought, Rupert, it's just-"

"Oh, heavens, you don't need to explain. It was too soon." He swallowed. "Tea?" He quickly left the couch, ignoring the rolling credits on the screen, distractedly polishing his glasses on the hem of his untucked button down shirt.

"Rupert. Rupert!" Joyce chased after him, slipping in her stockinged feet. "Rupert. Ripper!"

Giles stopped, head fixated over the tea things he was arranging. "Joyce, please, I would rather not rehash my bumbling foolishness. It's an English thing. Or- perhaps a human thing."

"Why did you say it?" Joyce laid her hand on his arm, her eyes luminous and drawing.

"Because I meant it."

"How can you mean it? It's only been a few weeks..." She pleaded with him. To tell her the truth, to not play this game. Maybe he meant it to give her confidence, or maybe he thought after their few encounters of love making he was obligated.

"When you know, you know." He whispered simply. "It doesn't mean you should go about, saying it. Singing it out like some randy teenager with his first love." Damn. That word again. "You see my problem? It wasn't the candy that brought out my old impulsiveness- that is to say, not merely the candy. Part of it's you."

"I just remind you what it was like. Or I remind you what it's like to have someone your own age, a friend to relate to."

"True. On both counts. But so do a host of other acquaintances, my books, movies, music- all of that can remind me, but I just so happen to have feelings for you." He turned up the gas under the kettle and then looked up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry if it's more one-sided. If you'd like to continue as we are, I've no objection. As long as you think someday, it might be a possibility?"

"Of course. Of course it is!" Joyce shook his sleeve fiercely. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "You just have to understand. I don't have a great deal of trust when it comes to guys these days. Hank-"

"Is Buffy's, and in a sense, Dawn's, biological father. It is out of respect for them that I don't bash his bloody skull in." Giles growled with a sudden flash of fire in his greenish eyes.

Joyce bit back a smile. "There are times I feel like that, I admit."

Rupert offered a selection of teas and she chose one, watched him put it in a pot, get the strainer ready. She loved that he didn't use bagged teas. She even loved watching him fuss over this, like a ritual, everything must be just so. _I love so many things about him. _Her heart gave a small quake inside her. _Don't fall, Joyce. No one is waiting to catch you._

"I wish I had a rewind button for life quite often." Giles remarked, half to himself, half to her.

"I think most women would be thrilled to have a man say those words, Rupert. It's just- I have a harder time loving than most women, I guess." She gave a nervous chuckle.

"I can see why. A-And Buffy. She certainly has mentioned that to me on more than one occasion. About herself, not you. That she finds it difficult to express. Although she does tell me on occasion." He realized his reassurance had turned into rambling and he checked himself with an oath inside his head. "Another moment for the great cosmic remote I do not possess." He laughed and shook his head.

"I think Buffy has a far worse time trusting men than I do. Trusting in general. Part of that is my fault. I haven't been very supportive since she became 'chosen' or 'called'." Joyce was relieved to see that when they sat back on the couch with their tea that he didn't shy away from her. She eased herself as close as she dared and relaxed when he pressed his warmth to her side. _I didn't push him away. Not too far away._

"It wasn't an easy thing to accept. We all must have our rail against destiny." He yawned and picked up the remote. "I can rewind _Casablanca_ to the place you dozed off." He offered.

"No thanks. I know how it ends. Man loses girl for the greater good." She sighed.

"Man is a bloody fool. At least if he keeps on doing it." He sipped his tea and pretended he hadn't said that. She laughed gently and he relaxed a little. "I am so sorry. I don't know if this changes your plans for tonight?"

They hadn't said it in so many words. When she arrived, they both had ignored the small black duffle that she put down with her purse. But they both knew, had made veiled references, about how she needn't leave _after_. Or how there was plenty of room upstairs. Made gestures, the subtle shifting of all his toiletries to one side of the bathroom sink, the closet left open with spare hangers visible.

"That wasn't why you said it, was it?" Joyce stared into her half up empty cup, swirling it, watching the traces of sediment shift, caught up in a hot tidal wave._ Maybe he thought he should say he loves you since tonight is some kind of step, the 'spending of the night'._

"I'm only going to say this once more, Joyce, because, honestly, I do hate to look more of a fool than I already have. I said I love you because I wanted to, and I meant it."

Joyce sank back into the soft sofa. "Buffy loves you."

"And I her." And Dawn." Giles nodded. _She has to know that. She _must _know that. Still, perhaps she can't return the affection freely without hearing me reaffirm my feelings for her children. They are a part of the Joyce package._

"She doesn't give love lightly."

"No. It is hard won." Giles shook his head. "I suppose I'd better be a bit nicer to Spike. That is- do you think she...?"

"She does. And he does. They've both told me. I know they've told each other, too, they just don't act on it too much." _In _front _of other people. Thank God for ear plugs and advanced stereo systems... _

"Then I shall endeavor to treat him better."

"You've been doing fine. He still has something demonic inside him, and he did terrible things. It's hard to get past that. But if Buffy loves him and trusts him, I don't think you can get higher praise." Joyce swallowed a gulp of tea hastily. "She loves and trusts you, Rupert. She has for years."

"I count myself blessed." He drained his cup and began to pour a second, wanting to postpone the moment when she would leave, explain tonight wasn't the night. She had never answered his question from earlier, instead asking him another. "W-would you care for another cup, Joyce?"

"No." She put her cup down gently. His own cup was set down abruptly, and the pot returned to position without having been used. "My daughter is very stubborn. She has trust issues. She's learned to build walls around herself. Let me finish." She pressed a finger to the air just above his lips, not quite touching them. "If Buffy can love you and trust you- I'm guessing you're a safe bet."

"You don't have to humor me, Luv." He moved her finger away.

"Believe me. _I'm not_." She smiled, but there was touch of frost in her voice.

Giles was painfully reminded that this woman hadn't hesitated to attack a master vampire, a vicious deity, and on multiple occasions taken on monsters without falling to pieces. This was not a woman to trifle with. "Good Lord. You're serious?"

"Do I sound playful?"

"Not in the least." Tea was forgotten, and Giles wrapped one arm her waist, boyish, charming smile replacing the withdrawn, cerebral expression that he had worn since his declaration of love.

"I'm not saying anything. That- this- that this is some big defining moment. I'm keeping my head." She looked mulishly at him.

"I'm very partial to your head." Giles nibbled her ear affectionately. She allowed herself another one of those silvery laughs that went straight to his heart.

She leaned into his teasing, light kisses, smiling as she returned them at last. One more serious thought tugged at her before she gave herself room to fully let go and relax again. "It isn't our business, but Buffy and I had always noticed-"

"You and your children are my business, it's mutual, Joycie."

"You don't exactly dish out tender words and 'play the field'."

He paused and sat back. "No. No, I don't Joyce. I lost the first woman I ever really felt for, felt that I could love with complete honesty about myself, my wild youth, my sacred, mystical duties, and my 'fuddy duddy' self, as Buffy calls it. There have been two women I felt would accept all those pieces. One was Jenny Calendar. You recall her?"

"I do. And I'm sorry for making you think of her, Rupert. I remember what happened."

"She's part of the reason I'm making myself heard, Joyce. I lost an opportunity. I didn't get a second chance. With you-well, good Lord, I've had a dozen chances, and been too blind to move and seize them! This might seem sudden to you, but it's been growing in my heart for several years. Understandably, it won't seem that way to _you_, as I was foolish enough not to mention those feelings until _now_. I am an utter prat sometimes." He closed his eyes wearily and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache he felt gnawing behind his eyes.

"You look tired, Rupert." She whispered. He nodded once. "I should let you get to bed." With a soft ruffle of his steel colored hair, she pushed away from him. He blinked, watching her head towards the door.

His heart sank in confusion. She was accepting of his affection, she was rejecting the opportunity to make love, she was perhaps scared off? "Of course." He murmured hoarsely, eyes now winced shut against the throbbing in his forehead.

"Well? Are you going to come with me?" Her voice was velvety.

Giles' eyes flew open, head jerking up. Joyce was poised at the foot of the stairs, her black bag slung over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised in invitation. "Bloody hell, yes, of course I'm coming!" He stood up and marched over to her, grabbing her hand and tugging her, laughing, up to his room.

She was velvety. Her voice, her eyes, her skin. Softer, and like him, scarred for various reasons. No perfect beauty, but perfect for him. He couldn't resist saying it after they were done. "Love you, Joycie."

The words snagged as they came out. Words she hadn't said to a man in over five years. "I-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. Just afraid to."

"You stabbed Glory in the back, but you're afraid to tell me your feelings, despite the fact that you know I return them?"

"Call me eccentric." It sounded silly when he put it like that.

"Eccentric." He spooned behind her, lifting her tangled hair from her neck and kissing her shoulder blade.

"You're so incorrigible." She complained with a laugh.

"You're so encouraging, my love." He fixed her with a mischievous stare.

"It makes me love you." She whispered.

The teasing light died from his eyes and was replaced by something much more dark, deep, determined. "I won't fail you, you know."

"I know." He hadn't so far.

"You'll forgive me if I seem to dive headlong?"

"I guess we have good reason."

"This isn't exactly the safest town, Heart."

"Particularly not when your house is anti-evil headquarters. I'm glad Spike is there."

"Mm." Giles kissed her hand as he pulled her to her back, still leaning on his side and looking down at her. "I'm glad you're right here." He prodded her wrist with his chin.

"You are laying it on thick, Rupert Giles."

"Is it working?"

"Yes!"

"Good." He winked. "My mad dash to woo you is acceptable, then?"

"As long as you don't send a mariachi band to the house or the gallery."

"God forbid." He scoffed.

"You can be quite lovable." She looked at him, more comfortable, more loved than she had felt in half a decade. A very long, terrible half a decade, full of death, illness, heartbreak, and violence. She sniffled suddenly. "Sorry." She scrubbed her eyes quickly.

"What's the matter, my love? Your head doesn't hurt does it?" He sat up worriedly, only to be tugged gently back down. "What is it, Joycie? You can tell me anything, Heart."

"I think- that for the first time in a very long time- I let myself lean on someone. And it feels so_ good_." She blinked and two tears seeped out.

"If you'll give me the chance- I'll be your wall. For as long as you'll have me." Giles whispered, treasuring this woman more every second. He was used to strong and powerful women. In everyday packages it was rarer, but Joyce had all that strength and grace. She was letting him in. He was truly and deeply honored.

"You're sure? 'For as long as you'll have me' seems very serious, Rupert." She cautioned.

He grinned broadly, all his charm and confidence in one small quirk of his lips. "Trust me a little, my love. I'm sure."

* * *

><p>Spike sat up. She wasn't home. She hadn't come home, and it was a few hours before sun up. She'd be staying with the Watcher then.<p>

"What's wrong, Baby?" Buffy rolled to face him.

"Your mum stayed out." He sighed and sank back.

"She's with Giles. She's safe."

"Yeah. Of course. An' you. You're safe in here." He snuggled close to her, feeling lulled and sleepy, warmth from her body relaxing him.

"So are you." She cuddled to him. For a moment, there was silence. "Spike?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you care about her. And Dawn."

"Can't help it. Nice people, your family." He reflected and laughed as he pondered aloud, "That's the trouble with vamps. We get hungry before we've been properly introduced to the main course. Maybe we wouldn't be so quick to bite if we knew the folks we were bitin'."

"Yeah. That makes sense." She looked up at him. "I was scared when she was sick."

"Me, too." He sighed.

That wasn't what she expected to hear, but it made her feel better, not so weak- and yet safe in her vulnerability. "You probably don't want to hear this. But you do make me feel safe. And loved." _I'm being such a_ girl.

He swallowed. "You're right. I probably didn't want to hear it. But I do now. No one- I don't think anyone- has felt safe with me, or loved by me, in years."

"Dru?"

"Knew I'd take care of her, knew I loved her. But she never felt safe, an' never could fully love me back. Her mind couldn't work that way once she was broken. Angelus ruined her sense of safety and then turned her. Kept her like a scared rabbit for all eternity. Nothin' I could do." He winced as pain flooded him and he suddenly held her more tightly. "He could have done that to you, Luv." _No, no he couldn't have. She was a fighter. But if he kept it up long enough..._

Buffy felt a tear splash to her cheek, one of her own. It hurt to know that she'd loved someone so much, and that there was truly, _truly_ nothing left in her heart for him but residual emotion. It burned to know that Spike, without a soul, was still fully aware and pained by her ex's behavior. "He could have done that to you, too." She suddenly realized, and her own iron grip took over.

"We won't let him get to us." Spike pushed aside the violence that ripped through him. _She's safe with me. I'm safe with her_. "I know I wasn't gonna tell you too often, didn't want to sound like a sap, but I do love you."

"I love you, too. You don't sound like a sap. You sound like someone for me."

"I am for you. As long as you like." He responded easily.

It was the exhaustion, his arms comfortingly clingy around her waist, her head cradled in one spread palm, his jaw on her cheek. Wrapped in his love. "How does forever sound?" She murmured before her mind could pull the emergency break. _Oh, holy shit, I just said that out loud. Bloody hell! And now I sound like him! Maybe I can just jump out the window..._

"Forever sounds fine, Pet." He smiled down at her. Her wide startled eyes made the smile turn to a smirk, complete with cocked head and raised brow. "What? Did you think I was gonna leave the best thing that's ever happened to me?" He winked.

"I- I'm the best thing?"

"Yep. But don't go gettin' a big ego. I'm the best thing that ever happened to _you_, too." She opened her mouth for a hasty denial, but she caught his pursed lip grin.

"Yeah. You probably are." Shaking their heads at the strange ways of fate, they slowly fell back to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**If You're Sure**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life.,_

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes..._

_Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_A chapter devoted pretty evenly to Joyce and Giles and Spike and Buffy. Sorry if you were hoping for strictly Spuffy, but I've got to get the bride and groom's relationship going too!_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, Idiosyncratic Delusions, Smile Time, Msnycegirl0820, McPastey, and jmoran 319_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part IV**

_About four weeks before the wedding..._

"You wanna swing by the crypt before we go home?" _That sounds so odd. Home not bein' the crypt. Home is a house on Revello Dr. with a proper fridge, an' a proper bedroom, an' a nice big telly. _

"I would love to- except that Willow and Tara are watching Dawn while Mom goes over to Giles' and I want to get back."

"I don't mind stayin' with Dawn on occasion." Spike offered.

"I know you don't. And honestly, we're all going to end up taking Dawn-sitting turns with my job being 'nocturnal' and Mom and Giles going out a few times a week."

"No big thing. I live there. 'Course, I can't be the sole sitter. Gotta get out an' shed _some_ blood. Or whatever the hell that thing shed."

Buffy looked at her white shirt, splattered with black slime. "Blood should be clear, odorless, and never stain."

"An' you shouldn't wear white to patrol." Spike lit up a smoke, and as he sometimes did, held out the pack to her.

It always made her smile when he did that, because he was by nature, not a very sharing person. She knew he did it absently, a reflexive gesture, because she was huge on not smoking and always pushed the pack away. _But he automatically shares with me. Okay, it's kind of cancerous, but still...mega sweet. _"You got any lollipops instead?" She asked. Giles used to complain about her munching on lollipops during patrol, more often during research- he was afraid she'd drool candy juice on the books or something.

"Just so happens I do. One, nice thick one. Creamy filling?" He smirked, and she flushed. "Wanna count how many licks it takes to get to the center?" His hands ghosted over her, but she squirmed away. "Fine, see if I offer _you_ any more Spike desserts."

"No, it's just I'm all ooky. I need a shower."

"Well, I'll be waitin' for you when you're done." Spike slung one arm around her shoulders and she slid easily against his chest. "Nice night."

"Perfect. Warm without suffocating me." She sighed, and burrowed more deeply into his arm. Then realized what had happened. "Spike! I just told you I'm all gross!"

"Got a fair bit on me as well. You jus' can't see it, black on black." He also experienced a moment of realization. "We're out together."

"Yeah. I noticed that. Starry sky doesn't fit in my bedroom." She giggled.

"We're- look at us, Buffy."

She did, and realized they were pressed together in a romantic fashion. Her instinct was to remove herself, not that she was ashamed, but it just wasn't them. Was it? "Well, maybe it's okay. Maybe it's just 'cause we're alone together."

"True." He paused in his stride and cocked his head. Slowly she leaned in and he leaned down. They kissed slowly, a sigh breaking in the midst of it. "First the mall and now a kiss outside of the confines of houses or crypts. Must be mental."

"Yeah." She laughingly agreed. "C'mon, it's probably midnight already. Whatever's supposed to rise has risen and been put back down."

"I'm gonna get myself a belt just for notches." Spike grinned wickedly.

"How many you've taken out?"

"That's the idea."

"I thought that idea was for conquests. Of the bed variety."

"Then I'd need a new belt every couple weeks, as often as we're at it."

"Perv." She wriggled from under his arm and walked more quickly, getting away from him and his lascivious sneer.

"Or I could just cut one very large notch in this one." Spike easily caught her. His smile softened. "I think I've gotten the best there is, my huntin' is over."

"The best there is?"

"Best for me. To love, that is. Now, if we're talkin' about your driving ability or your culinary skills..." He trailed off with a hopeless sigh.

"Hey!" She shoved him angrily. He only laughed and pulled her back to kiss him once more.

They arrived home to find Willow, Tara, and Dawn all asleep in a pile on the couch. "Hi guys!" Buffy hissed loudly. Dawn moaned and pushed her head further into the sofa. "Will! Tara." Buffy hissed more insistently.

"I'm up." Willow replied without opening her eyes.

"Do you guys want to crash here?"

Tara finally sat up and stretched. "Oh, you're back. Hello, Spike."

"Everything go alright?"

"Fine. Oh." Tara noticed Dawn snuggled up on Willow's side and laughed. "Except for the being responsible and getting the teen to bed at a reasonable time part."

"It's summer. No school to get up for." Dawn muttered, coming slowly awake. "But the couch sucks. I'm going to bed." She staggered up and hugged Tara, hugged Willow whose eyes shot open as she finally woke, and prepared to hug Buffy, but paused. "Is that demon gunk?"

"Yup." Buffy sighed. "Just once I'd like to find a demon who shot Chanel Number Five. Or at least color coordinated." She looked mournfully at her shirt.

"Black goes with everything." Spike grinned. Dawn prepared to hug him, but he held her back. "It's on me, too, Bit. Get you in the morning." Dawn nodded, her eyes becoming more heavy-lidded as she stood. She slowly trailed up the stairs.

"Did my mom call or anything?" Buffy saw her friends to the door after they refused to stay in her mom's room or on the couch.

"Nope. She and Mr. Giles must be having a nice time." Tara beamed. Spike snorted and smirked, heading up the stairs.

"Yeah, they're back late." Willow glanced at the clock.

"She's staying over." Buffy had thought they knew.

"Really? When you said she was at his place tonight, I wasn't sure if you meant, y'know, _spending the night_. That's so cool! I'm so glad for both of them, they have seriously bad love life luck." Willow squealed.

"Tell me about it. First Ms. Calendar - then that Olivia girl got scared off by all the monsters we have in stock..." Buffy sighed regretfully. "Plus, in Mom's case, the only guy she's had around since Dad was robotic." Tara made a startled noise.

"I'll fill you in on that one later, Honey. Let's go." Willow laughed softly. The three said goodbye at the door and parted company. Buffy waited until she heard Tara's small second hand car sputter to life and locked the door.

Buffy heard water running as she approached the bedroom. Dawn was already asleep again, she peeked in on her and checked. Spike usually waited until afternoons to take his shower, wanted to stay out of the way of the women, who had to get to work or school, he claimed. For a moment she was annoyed, realizing that she was going to have to wait to take her turn to wash up, and then rolled her eyes at her folly. "He's covered in demon yuck, too, genius. Of course he won't wait until tomorrow to clean it off." She muttered to herself.

A wicked smile sprang to her face as she had a thought. "Spike?" She called softly, knowing his sensitive ears would pick up on it.

"Jus' a minute, Pet, I'll be right out."

"Can I come in, instead of you coming out?" She whispered. There was silence for a split second and then the soft click of a lock opening. She looked back at Dawn's door again, and bolted inside.

Wet hands were on her, and the lights went out before she could react. "Missed me?" Spike purred.

"You're getting me all wet." She moaned softly, feeling his wet naked body pressing to her clothed one.

"So? You're about to get in the shower."

"You'll get this stuff on you." She felt his hands roughly yanking her khakis open and down her hips.

"Gonna get back in, wash it off." He shrugged.

"Try not to get it in my hair." She stopped his attempts to get her shirt off and did it herself, holding the neck open wide to lift the stained clothing neatly past her hair. Her bra was gone the second she lowered her arms. With a throat rumbling laugh, Spike pulled her into the shower with him.

"We should do this more often. After patrols. Why'd I never think of this?" Spike shook his head._ Because humans might need to nip in here at any moment to empty their bladders, that's why. It was only a safe bet tonight because Joyce is away, and Bit's out for the count._

"We can do it more often, I like this." Buffy grabbed her shower gel and began to lather.

"That's my job." Spike hissed in her ear, and his hands took over, running up and down her body, fingers shamelessly paying attention to her soft nooks and crannies.

"I don't have any demon residue there." She reminded him, thighs starting to quiver.

"Well, not any of the monstrous kind. You're just _full _of demon leftovers, though, Pet." Spike plunged a finger deep inside her suddenly and stirred, feeling hot wetness engulfing him, and deliberately seeking for slightly stickier traces.

"You have a dirty mind." Buffy gasped in pleasure.

"Then you must have one, too, Luv. I'm just your reflection, after all." He nipped her ear, standing behind her.

Buffy tried to find a rebuttal or even a teasing remark to throw at him. But she couldn't concentrate when his hardness was sliding up and down between her cheeks as he held her tight. She jerked herself around to face him, kissing him longingly.

"It's not wrong, you know. When you're in love. When you know the other person. How much they want it." He covered her neck and shoulders with wet, tongue pressing kisses, sucking on her skin, biting softly. He could taste her heat in every inch, blood coursing under sleek, wet skin. He wondered what it would feel like to bite into her when her skin was freshly soaked, extra soft and satiny. _Like sinking into melted butter, I bet._

"You don't need to convince me." Buffy realized it was true. All of her inhibitions had left with Riley, and were never coming back, if she had any say in the matter. "You're all bad and sexy on the outside." She whispered, and felt his head nod on her breast. "That means inside you're just a sweet, shy person, looking for love, and tenderness..."

He gulped. Okay, so she really_ did _know him now. He tried to work up some fear, or indignation, but couldn't manage it. _She won't ever hurt me. Got a truce, haven't we? _The most he could build up was a little feeling of apprehension._ An' since we don't lie to one another, 'cause, hell, we'd know if we were... _"Yeah, reckon it's true." He whispered.

"But that's perfect, Baby. Because on the outside I'm the sweet one. The good one. Inside, I'm just as deep and dark and wild. We go so good together." She smushed herself more tightly to him, climbing him, clawing him as his head rose up.

"I love you." He whispered.

"God, Spike, I love you. So much." _It's happy love, too. No sad love. No guilt love. I could get used to this..._

* * *

><p>I could get used to this, Joyce thought, drifting slowly into wakefulness. <em>Rupert is everything you could want in a - a boyfriend.<em> _Do I use that word? Boyfriend?_ Never mind the title, he was wonderful. He loved her, he was gentlemanly when called for, but he still knew how to have fun and get wild if he wasn't "on duty". He knew how to cook and look after himself, and he loved her daughters. Plus- really good in bed. She supposed they both were, out of sheer desperation and neediness. If you don't get to do much for a long time, and then boom, you do- she chuckled and looked at the satisfied smirk on his face, even while he slept- it was like fireworks.

He had his faults. He did have a wandering eye- but it tended to wander to books, relics, and monsters. Hey, as long as it wasn't twenty-something secretaries, she had no real objection. He had his annoying habits. Mind going off on tangents. Mumbling when he was embarrassed, or distracted. That polishing thing he did with his glasses, what was _that_? It was like a tic with him.

"Joycie..." He mumbled in his sleep, and rolled over, one arm searching for her. She rolled more snugly against him, deciding that she loved all the little oddities about him. They made him human. Not, thank God, a robot designed to be perfect. _Perfectly evil, that is. Give me lovable imperfection any day._

"Joycie." He was awake now, and kissing her shoulder. "Good morning, Love."

"Good morning." She whispered. "Sleep well?"

"Mm, quite." He shifted. "Although I may have done my back in, just a touch. But it was well worth it." A hedonistic chuckle escaped him. They had eaten Thai take out and danced in the dark, old albums on, lights out. Made love on the floor, then in his bed. He was getting old, he shouldn't have tried to be so impressive. Funny, parts of him didn't remember that advice right now. "Very well worth it." He squeezed her hip gently, rocking his hardness against her rear.

"Stop, I'm going to be late for work." She giggled when she felt his hands moving up her back, heading to cup her soft breasts.

"You own the place. Be late."

"I can't. _Because_ I own the place." She countered with a laugh. "But if you're a good boy, and you can stop being a control freak for an hour, why don't we both take lunch and meet someplace? I can have Jean watch the gallery, you can leave Anya for a little bit."

"I think it's a lovely idea. There's that little cafe by the pizza place. That's about half way between us." Giles sighed and watched her slide shyly out of bed. She wore something like a slip. Silk, black, and sensuous. Only she wore it to hide herself. Why in God's name would she hide herself? She had scars, she had sags, so did he. Good lord, didn't she wonder why part of his stomach looked like a bear had bitten through it? Actually, he was glad she didn't wonder, he wouldn't really like to tell her that Angel, as Angelus of course, had done that to him with some sharp shears. At least her sags had been earned doing something beautiful, giving life, nursing her amazing children that he loved like his own. Not received by doing something stupid, like falling into the trap of a sadistic madman. "Beautiful." He murmured, watching her.

"Oh. Stop." She blushed and padded towards the bathroom.

"No." He got up, bravely pushed off his own shyness, and stood behind her, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. "You are very dear to me. Precious. I just thought you should know that." He let her go, only to find her holding his hands to her sides as they began to pull away.

She whispered it in a hurry, speaking softly, quickly, like a hint of mist clouding the sun and then vanishing. "I love you, Rupert." She intended to leave, head to the shower quickly, hide with her confession. It was the first time she had said the actual

words, not just hinted at them.

"I love you as well." His voice had the same soft, wondering tone, but it became more gritty, more playful as he followed her. "Let me show you."

"Rupert!"

"Let me show you, Joycie. Let me show you..." His hands and lips were roaming, nipping, tickling.

"You're terrible." She finally gave in and let him get her slip down around her feet, backing her into the shower, turning it on.

"Terribly in love." He smiled.

* * *

><p>"You're sure you don't mind?"<p>

"Oh, I mind terribly, just seethin'." Spike laughed at his lover with a wink. He was sprawled in an armchair, blood in a tall ice tea glass beside him, a thick leather bound book in his hand, and the remote on his knee.

"We could walk there through the sewers. Or- and I say this as proof of my deep and really stupid love- take that deathtrap of a car you own." Buffy was standing by the front door with her sunglasses perched on her head, in a summery sun dress and pink flip flops. She was heading to the Magic Box, where she spent most afternoons in the summer. She felt guilty leaving Spike cooped up inside on such a beautiful, hot day, but she didn't know why. Not like he hadn't spent the last hundred something summers the same way. And that was before cable.

"First- you consider taking sewer tunnels the preferable option to my car? Second- not takin' you down in those rubber shoes, you'd never be able to fight off anything, an' third- I don't want to miss _Passions_!" She rolled her eyes heavenward and heaved a sigh. "Fourth- I think it's dead sweet of you to offer."

"You're not all possessive guy." She appreciated this. Riley had seemed to begrudge time not spent with him. But that wasn't what had made things fall apart. He was trying to be good to her. She hoped he was alright, wherever he was...

"I am to a point. You're not plannin' to run off on me though, so the broody lovelorn side is leashed up tight, thank God!" That side made him look weak and foolish, not at all the paragon of darkness he should be. "I might swing downtown later though. Low on cash, gotta play in a high stakes game."

"Be careful." Buffy detoured from the door and kissed him hard.

"Always. Got someone to come home to." He winked. Then cleared his throat. "Look after yourself."

"Always. See previous comment."

Spike watched her go and settled back, clicking on the telly. Bit was at Janice's. Buffy would be with her Scoobies shortly. He would go to Willy's and play big, play for cash, forget the kittens, he had all the blood he could handle. Then he'd go stop in at the gallery and check on Joyce. He hoped all the shaggin' with Rupes wasn't going to do funny things to her blood flow. He knew logically that it wouldn't, that Rupert would be a eunuch before he hurt any of the girls he cared about. But a little part of him still felt like his day wasn't complete until he'd had a cup of something with Joyce and caught up on the soaps. He laughed to himself, because even though he hadn't seen Joyce in about 24 hours, he knew exactly what she was doing.

He knew that right now, the small television set in the gallery's back room would be on, _Passions_ would be starting, and Joyce and Jean would be minding the store in shifts, and catching one another up during commercial breaks, praying for a few less customers for the next hour.

The theme music began and he sat up straighter, closing his book. As soon as this was done, he'd go win a few hands, pick up some smokes and get Joyce a nice herbal chai or somethin' foamy, take it to her at the gallery. After all, it wasn't so far from Willy's. _Only the complete opposite end of town_, he smirked to himself. W_hat's that to someone with super strength and speed, plus a shot of slayer blood? Or a car._

On his way back home, he'd stop and get something for Buffy. A brownie maybe. That girl loved chocolate. The first lines were spoken, and Spike stopped planning for the next hour.

* * *

><p>"Your usual?" The barista asked Spike as he shifted his carton of cigs from arm to arm.<p>

"Uh. Yeah. No. Look, y'know how I always order the straight up black coffee, and then I get that fancy whatsis?"

"Yes..." She stated slowly, kind of surprised that she did. Sunnydale was home to the weirdest patrons in the world. But this guy was memorable, even among them, even though he didn't come in everyday. He acted like Mr. Badass, looked like Mr. Badass, but half the time he came in he was with this really polite, well dressed lady who ran an art gallery. The two of them talked away like they were best friends instead of a couple who looked like the mugger and muggee.

"Well, I was doin' a bit of readin' and caffeine isn't the best thing for blood vessels an' all. What's the closest thing you can give me to the fancy thingamumbob I usually order, that'll still kind of taste the same, but won't have caffeine?"

"Do you just want me to make it a decaf version, sir?" The barista asked after untangling the request.

"Brilliant!" Spike said after a moment. He didn't think you could decaffeinate the mocha latte something something that Joyce loved, but if you could, that'd be the best choice. "Gimme that then. Oh. An' one of those giant brownie things. No, make it two. Oh hell, make it three." Buffy could eat two of those without blinking. And Dawn would be wanting one as well.

Carrying the paper containers of coffee and the white bag of brownies, Spike dashed and slammed back into the DeSoto, stuffing crumpled bills back into his pockets. The sun set late in the summer, curse it, an' he doubted brownies flambé would delight his lover and the Bit. He revved the engine and roared to the gallery.

Joyce greeted him with a full on hug and a demanding, "Okay, a customer came in just before it ended! Jean was already helping someone, so we both missed it! What happened?"

"Bloody stupid timin'." Spike shook his head and shrugged out of his coat, propping himself on his usual spot on the counter, passing her the coffee. "What's the last thing you saw? Tell me, and I'll start from there."

* * *

><p>The brunette man screeched to a halt in his black classic convertible, the top up, the chrome polished, the entire car pristine and neatly maintained as the driver himself. "That can't be..." Angel's eyes took in the scarred and dented DeSoto. "It's barely dusk... why would he be in this part of town?" He parked quickly, nostrils flaring as he tried to catch a whiff of the man he'd last seen nearly two years ago. The creature who had tortured him and tried to steal the Gem of Amara.<p>

_Spike. Back in Sunnydale._

* * *

><p>"So, then, the gunmen came out, and there were shots fired. Three I think, but it may've been four. An' then of course, fade to black." Spike was finishing his animated retelling of the soap opera's conclusion.<p>

"I bet it was that evil millionaire who came to town last week!" Jean shrugged into her coat. " I guess we'll know tomorrow. I'm heading out. Bye Joyce. By 'Mr. Charm'."

"See you tomorrow." Joyce waved, Spike nodded once.

"Mr. Charm?" Spike crossed his arms and glared at the woman left behind.

His glare didn't perturb her in the slightest. She smiled in secret amusement and then sighed. "I'll tell you someday. Not now. Now I want to get these things put in the safe and go make dinner." Joyce locked the door, flipped the sign to read "closed", and began clearing several small, valuable statuettes from a display case. Spike continued to glare but assisted.

* * *

><p>The scent got stronger, mingled with scents of coffee, leather, cigarettes... chocolate? Semen. His partner's scent. Angel reeled back into the canopied window of a dress shop. That was <em>Buffy's<em> scent. No. No, no, _no_, he couldn't have- he wasn't the type to do more than tear out throats and dance in the blood. Where women were concerned, Spike wanted love, a connection. All the things _he_ wanted now and couldn't have with Buffy, or with anyone really.

Angel picked himself up, staggering in shock and following his nose. Buffy loved that boy, the army boy, Rickey? Riley? Ryan? Whatever. Some human imitation of himself. She'd never in a million years go for Spike. Spike was evil and soulless, a monster. Yet the closer he got the stronger the combined aromas hit him, and he bit his lip. What would Spike do if he was frustrated enough? He broke into a run.

* * *

><p>"You didn't get checked for two days. An' I don't particularly like to think about this, but you've been makin' Rupert's heart go pity-pat, an' I want to make sure all your blood's flowin' where it should, how it should." Spike put the last antiquity away and watched Joyce punch in the code.<p>

"It's been weeks!"

"Do I need to call the Slayer in?"

"I'll be good, I'll be good." Joyce held up her hands in defeat.

"Thank you." Spike said smugly, and plopped her onto the high, hand carved stool behind the register. "Now shush. I should've done this before the coffee... I'm gettin' all kinds of mocha overtones." He stood beside her, eyes closed and focused in concentration, head cocked slightly. He shifted, trying to hear, trying to pick out the single arterial wall that had been repaired, and then listening to other arteries around it, trying to visualize, knowing at best he was just going to get a vague impression._ But that had been enough to save her life, the last time._

Joyce bit back a grin. She couldn't see him in the mirrored wall of the gallery due to his lack of reflection, but she shifted her eyes to the side and watching him. He looked so serious, and it no longer made her uncomfortable, just amused. _I'm the only woman in the world with a vampire MRI machine._

* * *

><p>Angel followed the scent past one row of stores and doubled back, losing it halfway down the block. He must be in one of these - Angel's thoughts skidded to a halt, along with his feet, as he looked in store fronts- and saw a very intent looking Spike standing with his head bent over Buffy's mother. Peering through one of the windows, he sprang into action. "SPIKE!" He roared and slammed into the door. Locked.<p>

Spike's head shot up. "What the hell?" Angel, suddenly appearing, outside Joyce's shop, in game face and yelling his bloody head off. "Shit!" He dragged Joyce off the stool and to the floor.

"Spike, was that Angel?" She gasped, clutching his arms as she got into a crouch.

"Or Angelus." The door shattered with glass flying. "Joyce, get out of here, an' get to Buffy."

"Get your hands off of her!" Angel suddenly appeared over the counter, dragging Spike up by the neck of his shirt.

"Go!" Spike gave Joyce a shove and drew back his arm to face the bigger vampire.

"What did you do to her, Spike? Tell me!" Angel shook him like a rag doll, slamming him back into the display counter, spiderwebbing the glass.

Joyce scrambled into the back, there was a door to the alley. She ran pell mell out of it, and next door. "I need to use your phone, please." She panted.

"Mrs. Summers! We called the police!" The owner of the real estate office tried to pull her to a seat.

"Thank you. Oh God. No, that's bad." Spike couldn't be brought into a police station. What if they held him in a cell with a window? "Please, I need to use your phone and call my daughter!"

* * *

><p>"Magic Box, your one stop-" Anya held the phone away from her ear, trying to decipher the frantic babble. "What? What? Buffy! Go to the gallery, and run!"<p>

"Mom?" Buffy came out of the training room, now changed into her workout clothes and sneakers, an ashen expression on her face.

"Joyce?" Giles' voice was a frightened, panicked gasp.

"Mom? What's wrong with Mom?" Dawn clutched Willow, who was teaching her to float rose petals.

"Angel's attacking her store! Run! Violent confrontation!" Anya repeated urgently.

"WHAT?" Buffy and Giles shouted as one. Both of them ran out, still in training clothes, still carrying weapons, broadswords this time. Willow and Anya had their hands full trying to restrain a frantic Dawn.

* * *

><p>"Don't lie to me, Spike!" Angel and Spike grappled for dominance, destroying exhibits and stands left and right.<p>

"What the fuck are you on about?" Spike decked him and managed to get to his feet. "Who gave you a happy, you pillock? God damn it, I'm gonna castrate you this time, stop you doin' this shit whenever you get laid!"

"Did you hurt her? Is she even alive, Spike?" He ground out, punching him repeatedly, gaining strength as his fury grew.

"I'm not tellin' you a thing." Spike spat. If Angelus wanted Joyce for himself, to torture Buffy with her painful death, or worse, he was goin' through him, and the hard way.

"Get your hands off him!" Joyce's voice was harsh and just above a hiss. Spike and Angel turned to look at her, both of them sporting open wounds from powerful blows. In her hands was a large bejeweled cross, something she had just picked up at an estate sale.

"It's okay Joyce, I can handle this." Angel assured.

"Don't listen to him, Joyce, he's Mr. Soul-Free." Spike didn't release his grip. "Get out of here."

"No! Not until he lets you come with me." Joyce's voice shook. Buffy would die if anything happened to Spike, she'd already lost so much in a few years. She never took her eyes off the entwined vampires, walking slowly to her purse, cross still out. Buffy always made her carry a stake, not that she had a hope in hell of using it, but she figured she just needed to threaten for a few more minutes, until Buffy got there.

Angel blinked, and loosened his grip in puzzlement. It sounded like Joyce wanted Spike to come with her, not him. "Did you enthrall her?"

"That's a stupid parlor trick." Spike dealt a swift, powerful blow, sensing Angel's momentary weakness. The blow sent him crashing back, and Spike skidded away from his grandsire, grabbing Joyce in a split second. "Buffy, now!" Spike cried, and then dragged her away from the counter, out the broken front door, wincing as the cross singed his hand.

* * *

><p>Sirens filled the air, as Buffy and Giles drew abreast of the gallery. "Ohgodohgodohgod." Buffy chanted in a high whisper, taking in the smashed storefront.<p>

"It's all right, it's all all right, I'm sure." Giles lied to comfort himself as much as her. He groaned inside._ All right, Fate. I understand. I'm not wasting anymore time, I understand, I'll do anything you want, only don't let me lose her so quickly after I found her!_

"You're alive!" Angel smacked into the pair, looking up and down the street as he exited the destroyed doorway.

"You won't be for long, if you don't tell me where she is!" Giles shouldered his broadsword and prepared for a decapitating swing.

"I'm sorry, he got away." Angel panted needlessly, wrapping Buffy in a sudden constricting hug. "But, I can smell him, I can track him!" Angel tugged her wrist and turned down wind. "This way."

"No one moves!" Buffy shouted, and yanked her hand free.

"Um. Police, Dear." Giles pointed to the two squad cars that were arriving.

"Okay... everyone moves." Buffy dragged her ex and her Watcher behind a large van for the florist next door.

"Where would he take her? Does he have a lair? The mansion?" Angel demanded in a hoarse whisper.

"Who is _he_?" Buffy shouted in exasperation.

"Spike!" Angel clenched his fists. "This is taking too long, he could have- Buffy, he was taking her with him, but he was coming for you next. I heard him say they were going for you."

"Well, yeah, because you just busted up the store! At least that was what my mom said."

"You- your mom said I busted up her store?" Angel blinked. "Okay, I suppose, kind of, but-"

Giles halted the lunacy. "Stop. Stop and listen." He held up a warning hand, voice authoritarian. "Angel- this is Angel, is it not?"

"I'm not evil, you can call LA and check!"

"I will." Giles glared. "We'll assume you are ensouled for the moment. You say Spike and Joyce are together?"

"Yes!" He pressed his hand to his eyes worriedly. "I thought he'd already gotten you, but then I heard him tell Joyce he was going after you." He shook his head, trying to clear it, something not adding up. "He smelled- he smelled like you. I thought he- I thought I was too late."

"Oh." Buffy and Giles exchanged a glance.

"We need to go to the Magic Box. I'm confident that's where they went." Giles looked at the store. "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope your little detective agency is doing well. You're most likely going to have a very large bill..."

* * *

><p>Dawn pressed a wet paper towel to Spike's split lip. "Hold still!"<p>

"No! Now let me up, Bit, your sis is out there with him!" He had intended to deposit Joyce in safety and return to help Buffy. All his understanding about Buffy's strength, skill, and self-reliance didn't mean jack where Angelus was concerned.

"She and Giles went to help _you_!" Willow paced nervously, addressing Joyce. "It was- the -the not nice Angel?"

"He attacked for no reason, he broke into the store..." Joyce wrung her hands.

"Let me up." Spike snarled and shoved Dawn, wincing when the chip fired. "Sorry, Sweet Bits, I have to..."

"Let him go." Joyce put her arms around Dawn. "Don't get hurt. More."

"Not likely." Spike stormed into the training room and back out, arms loaded with weaponry. "Great. My coat's in the shop. If he hasn't taken it as some kinda trophy, the sick bastard." Spike exchanged a quick glance with Dawn and Joyce. "I'll be right back." He smiled reassuringly, reopening his lip, causing a fresh trickle of blood. "Wicca?"

"Spells up, Captain." She managed a weak smile, and started building a barrier, wishing Tara was there to help, and then being glad she wasn't. She didn't want her lover anywhere near Angelus.

* * *

><p>Spike made it as far as the corner when he saw the convertible. "Buffy!" He shouted, and the car jerked to a halt.<p>

Angel leapt out. He was going to finish this. "Stay back Spike, or I'll make it hurt!"

Spike paused. Hurt him, or hurt her? "Come to me, then." He coaxed with a sneer.

"Spike!" Buffy was scrambling out of the car, and Spike watched a miraculous sight unfold. She was moving freely, and past Angelus, to him. The sadistic beast made no move to stop her.

Angel watched a nightmarish scene take place. Buffy called the monster out- and then as she walked past him to stake Spike for threatening her mother, he made no move to run. Instead, they both juggled their weapons for a second, and then dropped them. "He didn't hurt you?" Spike whispered, holding her tight with a sudden jerk of his arms. She shook her head, and he let out the lungful of anxiety he'd been carrying.

"He hurt _you_." Buffy bit her lip, and ran a finger over his, catching the blood.

"Be fine in an hour." He touched her cheek softly, just two fingertips. They weren't big on emotional displays, but he knew, better than anyone, what Angel could do. And he hadn't done it to her.

"My mom?"

"Got her out. She's at the store. Red's got the shop warded up- or will have soon. She an' L'il Bit are fine." He stroked her hair once, and nodded to Giles, who made a noise of strangled gratitude and ran.

"Would someone _please _tell me what the hell is going on?" Angel demanded. For a few seconds all he could do was gape and wait to wake up. When that didn't happen he finally burst out in confused frustration.

"Come into the store."

"WHAT?" Spike hastily swiped up the weapons he'd dropped. "Buffy, he's evil. No soul."

"You don't have a soul either!" Angel cried hotly. "You don't, right?" He asked more tentatively._ Something_ was different about him.

"No, but I don't seem to need one like you, you wanker." Spike resisted the urge to pull Buffy into his arms again and hold her until Angel left. "When _you_ don't have one you get off on this unleashin' hell kick._ I _jus' eat people. An' I'm- I'm on a people-free diet now. I got an offer I couldn't refuse." He winked at his girl, and she blushed, but didn't turn from him.

"No." Angel's eyes widened. He started laughing, a sarcastic, mocking laugh, head slowly shaking from side to side. "No. No way, you- you couldn't mean what I think you mean."

"I really think we all need to go into the store. Right now." Buffy said firmly, and led Spike a few shops up and into the Magic Box, one eye warily on the angrily muttering vamp behind her.

* * *

><p>"Thank God you're here! Unstick them." Anya demanded as soon as Buffy came in. Anya pointed to the lip locked figures of Joyce and Giles.<p>

"Mom! Mommy!" Dawn snapped her fingers. "Nope. Still not working."

"Whoa- whoa what's he doing in here?" Willow pulled a loaded cross bow off the table and aimed it at Angel as he appeared in the doorway.

"It's not Angelus. It's Angel."

"Shoot him anyway." Spike muttered.

"Call LA." Giles muttered, still smothering Joyce with passionate kisses.

"Right. What number?" Anya cheerfully picked up the phone, and a bottle of holy water. "You should stay over there. I don't think we've met, but in my thousand years of being a vengeance demon I saw some of your work. Four years ago, I would've been honored to meet you. Now I want to vomit."

"She has word-mouth-brain issues." Willow explained, slowly lowering her cross bow.

Angel sighed and remained in the threshold, giving the number. In a hasty conversation, he heard Anya being assured he wasn't off the wagon, and everyone partially relaxed. He felt safe enough to enter the room and close the door.

"So. What brings you to town?" Willow said to break up the painful silence. Joyce and Giles finally released one another.

"Oh. Yeah. Awhile I ago I heard you had a hell god turn up here? I was hoping I could pick your brain about that. I think we have something similar running a law firm in LA."

"That was weeks ago!" Dawn squawked indignantly. "Kinda could've used some help then." Her eyes flashed.

"Dawnie." Angel gave her a soothing grin- he hoped. "Boy, you've grow up! Wow, I remember you being such a little cutie in-"

"Wanker." Dawn crossed her arms and moved to stand between in the two couples she trusted, her mother and Giles and Spike and Buffy. "You don't remember me at all. But only Buffy, Mom, and Spike every figured it out." She shook her head and muttered. "Spike's the only guy to figure _her_ out at all."

"Did- did she just call me-"

"Yes, she did." Giles motioned to the large table in the back.

"But Spike-" His mind reeled. Why would Dawn say he didn't remember her, and why would she be hanging out with Spike, using his words?

"Yes. He does." Giles allowed himself a grin, but didn't relinquish Joyce's hand. "Angel. Would you care to tell us why you felt the need to burst through Joyce's locked door?"

"Okay, first off, I saw the car. Spike's." The two men had a brief but intense glaring match. "And I wondered what he was doing in Sunnydale. I thought he had left. I followed his scent, and I-" he winced, "smelled a really unusual combination..." He licked his lips and looked around the table, enormously uncomfortable.

"Skip that part." Giles colored and waved him on. He knew full well what Buffy and Spike did, and he no longer condemned it, although he didn't enjoy the prospect, and didn't like that vampire senses were acute enough to make your private life public.

"I tracked him and found him leaning over Joyce, going for her neck!"

"I was not!"

"It looked like it!"

"Boys!" Joyce silenced them. "Spike saved my life a few weeks ago. He was able to hear- I'm going to put this as simply as I can, because even I don't fully understand it. Spike heard an aneurysm forming, or happening, whatever, in the area where they removed my tumor."

"Tumor?" Angel blinked.

"Brain cancer. I'm fine. They got it all." Blood thinners for a few years, but otherwise fine." Joyce smiled. Angel looked apologetic. This was the first he'd heard of it. "Spike heard it the first time and saved my life. Ever since then, he and Buffy have this strange little ritual they insist on-"

"I insist too!" Dawn put in.

"As do I." Giles added firmly.

"All of us." Anya nodded. "Because death is not funny. Anymore."

"I was checkin', concentratin, makin' sure all the blood was flowin' to spec, okay?" Spike said defensively.

"So you thought Spike was attacking, so you broke in to save her." Buffy nodded slowly. "Okay. That clears most of it up. And Spike and Mom, not knowing what you're thinking, guess you're bad again and Spike- take over?"

"I attacked the poof. Told Joyce to get out. Which she did. But like you, she's stubborn as hell- an brave as hell, too-" they exchanged a warm look, "so she came back in, cross a-blazin'. Wasn't goin' to leave without me."

"Well- no offense Angel, but I wouldn't leave a canary I liked alone with you, I'm certainly not going to leave Buffy's -" Joyce felt a sharp kick under the table and Buffy shook her head subtly, "Buffy's- uh I wouldn't leave Spike there."

"No. None taken." Angel had to admit that was wise. Beyond wise.

"I called Buffy, she and Giles left to help us, just a little before Spike got me out of the gallery- the gallery! Oh, the gallery is ruined!" Joyce stood up and glared angrily at Angel. "You're paying whatever isn't covered by my insurance, and that includes the five hundred dollar deductible, young man!"

"The police had just arrived. Perhaps we should...?" Giles stood beside her.

"Can you pick up my coat? An' there's a bag from the cafe, got brownies for my girls."

Giles answered, supporting a sagging Joyce who looked like she had a headache forming. "We'll attend to it. C'mon, Sweetheart. I'll help you. I'm getting very good at insurance paperwork and lying to the police." Giles kissed her head tenderly and they walked towards the door, arm in arm.

"You should be. By now." They laughed softly and left.

"In love people." Dawn smiled wistfully after the exiting figures, and then fixed a meaningful stare at Buffy and Spike. "I'm going to go back to floating rose petals. Willow?" She was kind of glad she'd decided to go wait at the Magic Box instead of the mall with Janice. This was _way _more action packed.

"S-Sure." Willow went with Dawn, mouthing to Buffy "We're right here!"

Angel stared at Spike with undisguised hatred. "Why are you anywhere near these women?"

"I happen to like them." Spike hissed.

"What did you do to Buffy?" His fists slammed the table, rocking books on the shelf behind to the floor with the vibrations it caused.

"Oh. My. God. You and Riley. Both of you. I'm sitting _right here!_ Ask _me_!" Buffy cried, barely resisting the urge to smack him.

"You came- and then I came here. You were with Riley, the army guy. You told me you had moved on."

"Past tense." Buffy didn't want to hurt Angel, didn't want to see him, or talk to him at all. Confusion was running riot in her head. Spike and Angel had both tried to defend her mother, and protect her. Neither one was acting evil, although yes, Angel did have a soul. But Spike, without a soul- was a much better match. With a soul- she could only imagine how amazing it would be. But she already knew it was wonderful to have him, just how he was.

"Buffy? Buffy!" Angel felt like the explanation was clearly lacking, and Spike wasn't talking. Instead, the bleach blonde was leaning back, smoking lazily, a hint of smugness on his face.

"Oh. Sorry. Look Angel, thank you for trying to save Mom. I'm sorry it was a big misunderstanding. You will be giving me a blank check before you leave, right? For damages?"

"Uh- yeah. But- not blank. I'll give you the deductible, and some extra. You just let me know the costs, we'll make good on it." His team was going to kill him for this...

"Okay. Then I'll be glad to show you everything we have on defeating hell gods. You can even borrow our troll hammer. That helped is fight her to a draw once. Actually defeating her was a little bit different. But still, it helped, and I'll get it for you."

"Sounds good." Spike addressed Buffy, standing. He knew what she was feeling. He didn't like it, but he wasn't going to force her to confront Angel with their relationship. It was 'cause she was so kind, willing to to overlook things. He admired that, plus it certainly had worked in his favor as far as their relationship went. If it had been up to him, he would have told Angel every little detail before staking him, making sure he could never taunt Buffy was his newfound knowledge. "I'll put these bits and bobs back in the training room."

"Sit." Angel growled when Buffy rose with the blonde British vampire.

"You don't order people around! I'm not one of your agency flunkies." Buffy's eyes flashed.

"Buffy. Please sit. Spike- you can get bent."

"Oh for God's sake." Spike sat down heavily. "You fuckin', high an'-"

"Why does he smell like you? _Intimately_ like you?"

"You can figure that out." Buffy whispered, looking at him cooly.

The brunette vampire's motions were swift and violent, flipping the table and pinning Spike under it. Buffy's actions were equally violent, punching Angel hard enough to make blood spurt from his nose. "Stop!"

"Spike!" Dawn, Willow, and Anya were quick to abandon whatever they were doing to try to lift the heavy table off him. Buffy and Spike also helped, him pushing from underneath, her pulling from the top. Finally free, Spike got to his feet, although he was slower to stand than he would have liked.

"Do you love him? How? How can you?" Angel wiped his nose, fighting the urge to wipe his eyes as well.

"I do. I don't know why and how." She sounded guilty, and then took a long look at the vampire who she loved. "No. I'm sorry, I lied. I love him because he knows me. I love him- because I want to." Spike straightened up painfully but proudly.

_She loves me. She loves me an' he knows it._

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out like this. Or at all." The three other women cautiously backed away to a safe distance, sensing this was private, and possibly going to end badly.

"You weren't going to tell me? How- how long?" Angel ran his hands nervously through his hair, spiking it further in his anxiety.

"It isn't your business anymore. And how long doesn't matter."

Angel turned this over and over in his mind, all in a matter of seconds. It didn't add up, it would never add up. "Because he knows you?"

"That's right." She whispered.

"You love him for getting to know you?" He repeated slowly.

"And _understanding_ me." She elaborated.

"It's a trick." Angel moved towards Spike slowly, as he so often had before, ready to beat, this time to kill. "I told him. I told him the only way to hurt you was to love you. To make you love in return."

"That's it!" Spike no longer cared for his pains and potential fractures. He dove over Buffy, as Angel dove towards him, meeting in a brawl on the floor.

"I hate it when guys do this, you know that!" Buffy screamed.

"This isn't for you!" Spike snarled, and unleashed fury like Angel had never seen.

"What are you on?" Angel hissed when Spike's hands tightened around his windpipe.

"Good blood. Just a little bit durin' the peak. You remember what that's like." Spike hissed just low enough to hear.

Even with that enraging comment, Angel couldn't shake his grasp. "You-"

"Me! That's right. Me. I don't do what you do to women, you pillock." Spike spat in his face. The air was heavy with heaving breaths, a ring of four unnerved women surrounding them. With a whirl, Spike threw the bulkier man into Buffy's arms. "He's yours, Pet. Do what you want with him, kill him or let him go." He locked eyes with Angel's. "An' if that doesn't show you how much I love her, Angelus, you're stupid and blind." Shoulders shaking with repressed violence he stalked away, heading to the basement. "I'm gettin' burba weed. Be right here if you need me."

Dawn glared at Angel, and trotted down after Spike.

Buffy helped Angel stand. "Let's go. Outside."

"Buffy, I'm sorry. About the store, and jumping to conclusions, and everything. But Spike-"

"Isn't so bad once you get to know him. Oh, he's evil, and soulless. But he loves my mom, he makes a mean cup of cocoa, and oddly enough- really, really great with teenaged sisters."

"Fine. Fine, be a -friend." He pulled a sour expression. "But why do you need-"

"I don't _need._ I want. I love. It's hard to accept and you don't have to accept. But you don't get to change it."

"If he hurts you-"

"He won't. We have a truce."

"Buffy, a truce? He can break a truce at any moment!"

"Why would he?" She asked, brows arching.

"Well-" His usual argument of "he might lose his soul" wasn't going to work here.

"I'm waiting."

"Why _wouldn't _he?" Angel countered.

"If he did, he'd get killed. He'd lose his family."

"Family?"

"Yeah. Mom, Dawn, and I." She sighed. There wasn't going to be an easy way to skip over this. "We live together, all of us. Oh, and let's see- um, he saved Mom's life. He helped save Dawn's. He helped save mine. He actually was going to take an arrow to the chest to save me, but we both kinda just got skewered in the hand region, no biggie, nothing a little Slayer blood-" she blushed.

"You let him feed?"

"No! I'm not food. I'm love. It's- a loving way." She felt her cheeks flame. "I really don't want to talk to you about this. Okay?"

"I don't understand this, Buffy. Last time I saw him, he was torturing me for the gem. But he never tries to hurt you?"

"Oh, he did. Then he got chipped. He can't hurt humans, just demons. So we started to kind of work together, I mean, we'd done that before, as you well know-"

A light dawned in Angel's eyes. "So he's harmless. He_ can't _hurt Joyce or Dawn, or anyone. But what if there's a malfunction, what if-"

"He won't hurt anyone."

"He would!"

"He isn't _you_!" Buffy shouted.

Both of them stared, stunned. "I'm sorry. But- I know him. I trust him. If it kills me, if I'm wrong, then you gloat, okay?"

"Buffy, please-" He knew she was being stupid. He knew it would kill her someday. But he knew he would never convince her. He'd lost his turn, his right. Finally he held out his hands. "Just- be careful."

"I will. You, too." She brushed his hands lightly with hers, but then backed away. "The- the troll hammer? You want?"

"Yeah, thanks. I'll bring it back, y'know if we don't destroy it."

"Thanks. You write me that check, and I'll get you the books." She swept inside.

Spike was sitting, gracelessly submitting to Dawn's attempts at first aid. "Hi." She muttered.

"Didn't kill him?" Spike managed a cracked grin.

"Nah. He's helping people. Not us, obviously. God, I could _kill_ him for wrecking the gallery! No- don't say it, I know what I said." She was flustered.

"She's dumb, but we love her, huh Bit?"

"Yeah." Dawn stepped back and admired her work. "I should be a nurse."

"Uh-huh." Spike said skeptically and she elbowed him. "Hey! See, that's very poor bedside manner." He rose and eased his arms slowly out and back. "I'm gonna go get the car. Pick you two up in a minute?"

"Thanks. I'll walk with you, just let me get some things for him to take back to fight this legal demon thing with."

"What? We're lending? We don't lend!" Anya protested. After several minutes of arguing, she followed Buffy and Spike out to Angel's car and made him sign a receipt for the items on loan. Buffy took his check, and then took Spike's hand in her own.

"See you around." Angel said, speaking only to his former lover.

"Could you please call first next time?" Buffy pleaded, a small smile in her voice.

"So we can leave town." Spike mumbled under his breath.

"You ever hurt her, Spike-"

"And you'll know exactly _who_ taught me how to hurt. An' what's more, for every time you wonder if I'm treatin' her right, you better think back- about what you did to _my_ Dru, even before she was mine. Or any other little girl I watched you hurt... An' what you tried to train me to do. Then remember- that I was always a disappointment to you." Spike snarled the words in a heated, vehement whisper, inches from his face, before pulling back abruptly. "Goodbye. An' good riddance."

Buffy watched Angel's face sink into an expression of self-loathing. "I'm sorry. But he's right." She whispered.

"I'm sorry. Because he is." They exchanged a tight nod, and Buffy ran to catch up with her pale blonde beloved, walking towards his car and Joyce's store.

* * *

><p>Angel slowly drove away, heart heavy and soul aching. He passed the couple once more as he headed out of town. They were kissing silently, passionately, but not groping, just- being together. Simple content in the lines of their bodies as they rested against the wall of a of a brightly lit hardware store. Spike was a good actor. But he'd never be able to fake that look, that posture. He revved the car and squealed past, not wanting to look anymore. "She made her decision. I guess if she's sure about him-no. No, I never will be." Suddenly killing a huge demonic entity in a corrupt city didn't seem so hard anymore. Not compared to feeling like this...<p>

* * *

><p>"You chose me." Spike lit up from the inside. Dru had chosen Angel over him sometimes. He was sure Buffy would do the same- well, his doubts were sure. His heart was sure that she would not.<p>

"Duh. Here with you, sent Angel back home. And you come home with me." She kissed him once more and wound her hand through his swollen one. "The things you said? They were- really good things to say." She finished lamely.

"I dunno a damn thing I said. I jus' know he didn't hurt one of my girls. and I still have you. So I guess it's all right."

"But you still really wanted to stake him, huh?"

"Oh, you've no idea." Spike muttered fervently.

"I'll reward you for your self control as soon as we get home." She praised him.

"Mmm? What do I get?"

"Anything you want." She beamed seductively.

"Oh, you sure about throwing out an offer like that, Slayer? I'm a bad, bad man. I could ask you to do- so many, _many_ things." He suddenly pressed her against the wall of an alleyway in the block before the gallery and nibbled her throat.

She gasped, and smiled up into the sooty sky. "I'm very sure."

* * *

><p><em> To be continued...<em>


	5. Chapter 5

If You're Sure

By Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life._

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes..._

_Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_Smut warning- __**Slightly more explicit than usual towards the end. Skim if you gotta! You were warned.**_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, and Olfactory-Ventriloquism_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part V

_About four weeks before the wedding..._

"Thank you, officer. We'll be in touch if we can think of any more details." Giles herded the last policeman to the door.

"We'll be in touch if we have any leads, Mrs. Summers. I'm so sorry about your shop. It-uh- happens more than you think around here."

"Yes, I'm sure it does." Joyce smiled tightly. _Vampires, demons, zombies- my insurance premiums are going to go through the roof!_

"I've put a call in to Xander. He and a friend will be over soon to board up the door and window." Giles wrapped his arm around Joyce's shoulders. "I'll call Anya and ask her to close the store, and we'll have this place to rights in no time."

"It was nice of the insurance adjuster to come out so fast." Joyce stared, hollow eyed around the room.

"They come more quickly for 'vandalism' than 'earthquakes'." He sighed.

"Well, given that 'earthquakes' mean hell creatures trying to kill my baby girl, I'll take vandalism any day." Joyce leaned on his offered arm.

"We're here! We brought brooms and trash bags." Buffy and Dawn came into the shop, carefully stepping through the shattered glass door.

"Hi, Sweeties. You didn't have to do that." Joyce hugged her daughters.

"Of course we have to! You're our mom, this is like- part our store." Dawn hugged her mother.

"We didn't mind. Spike's on his way over, too. He went to get pizza." Buffy surveyed the damage with calmer eyes and winced. What a mess.

Joyce shook her head incredulously. Vampire healing or not, Angel's assault had been vicious. She wasn't the least moved by Angel's claims that he had been attempting to defend her. Right now she held him completely responsible for ruining a nice night, not to mention a gallery that she had finally gotten up and running after two prolonged absences this year. "Spike went to get pizza? Buffy, he's all beat up!"

"He- uh- he feels better now." Buffy blushed.

_An hour ago..._

"You don't have to come back to the house with me. I know where the brooms an' trash bags are. Don't you want me to drop you off to be with Mum? I mean, _your _mum?"

"You just took on Angel for her. Okay, so he wasn't actually _evil_- but he still beat the crap out of you. You kept her safe." Buffy rubbed his shoulders as he pulled into the driveway. "You're allowed to call her 'mum', if you want."

Spike paused before pushing open the door. "No big. I know you could handle 'im. You always have." He left the subject of how he addressed Joyce alone for the moment and focused on the Poof.

"Nah. I needed your help. Once." She shrugged, not looking at him.

"Let's rustle up the cleanup supplies and get back to Joyce, then." Spike said briskly. "The sooner we get home for good, the better. I'm getting a reward for my self-control. You said I get to name my treat." He smirked. "Got plenty of ideas bubblin'."

"Right." Buffy pushed open the passenger door with a cough. "Could we maybe get air fresheners for this thing if I'm going to ride in it?"

"What's wrong with it? I haven't had a corpse in this car for over a year. Longer!"

"Oh, gosh, _ick_. I meant because I think I could get lung cancer just from ten minutes in here! But that corpse thing- seriously disturbs me." She looked into the back seat. "Is that blood?" She wrinkled her nose, pointing to a dark stain on the upholstery.

"Possibly. Most likely mine, though." Spike glanced casually into the backseat. "I cleared out the bottles though,and all the butts. Plus the trunk." No need to tell her what had been _in _the trunk, of course...

"I'm leaving the windows down."

"I noticed this ride was okay to get to the mall."

"I didn't know I was putting my little sister at risk of emphysema and sitting on blood stains at the time when I agreed." They walked up the front porch stairs together, and she relaxed. Back to bickering. It was good natured, normal for them. _It's going to be fine. Mom is okay. Dawn is okay. Angel knows and Riley knows- I don't give a crap about Parker- and no one's hurt. Except him..._

"Staring at my rugged good looks?" He teased as she saw him in the bright lights of the kitchen. He was already pulling brooms from the cupboard.

"Yeah. Right. I love me some hamburger." She looked at his split lip, bruised and bloody jaws and cheeks, blackened eye, and swollen knuckles. "You better eat something."

"I will. Just a minute to nuke it, an' I'll be fine." Spike winced when he bent down to the bottom shelf of the fridge, grabbing two pints of blood instead of his usual one at a time. "That bastard's always had the size advantage." He muttered, straightening up.

"Don't you mean height and weight advantage?" Buffy came up behind him, careful not to touch the side he was favoring, instead cupping his crotch. "You're the one with the size advantage, Baby."

He released a pleased chuckle, even though he knew that she was pandering to his ego. "Well, he packs a mean punch. Got him back this time. Little shots of Buffy do a body good." He turned and kissed her.

"We'll get you some more then." She pressed into him, hands more insistent in his zipper area.

"But the gallery-"

"I have to make you feel better." She whispered.

"No, you don't." He was firm. "I _do_ feel better. Told him off. An' I mussed up his hair. Bloody vain about his hair." In spite of herself, Buffy laughed, and let him go long enough to pour his blood into an oversized coffee cup and stick it in the microwave. "Where's the travel coffee mug? I'll put the rest in that." Spike nodded to the remaining pint.

"We're staying here until you finish. And until you have a 'shot of Buffy'." She leaned against him, head on his chest. "I was worried about my mom when she called. Part of me was scared about you, too. I know you don't need me to help protect you or anything. I just-" She looked uncomfortable and suddenly found the toes of his boots extremely fascinating, fixing her eyes on them. "I just didn't want anything bad to happen to you."

God, she _would _use that little voice that she only used in bed, when she felt the rest of the world dropping away, an' it was just the two of them. Just herself and her mirror opposite. The sadly sweet, soft, 'I'm showing you I'm all vulnerable' voice. Drove him out of his head. "Sod the store. It'll still need sweepin' when we get there." His voice had gotten raspy. He yanked the microwave door open and took out his mug, cooler than he'd have liked, but no matter. He swallowed it greedily, and immediately felt parts of him beginning to heal. He lifted Buffy up in one arm and put her on the kitchen counter.

"Spike!" She protested.

"Shut up." He hungrily kissed her, a little voice in his mind saying he shouldn't, he had blood in his mouth, but she kissed him back, just as easily.

"Here?" Her voice was dropping, husky tones emerging.

"No one else about."

"Is this your reward?" She gasped. _I'm going to have to die if someone walks in. Who'd walk in? We're all down at crisis central. _I _should be down at crisis central. But- but what if we'd never gotten to say goodbye? _She undid his zipper with a sudden tug.

"No. For that, I'm going to need much more time. This is gonna take ten minutes and make you rattle the windows when you scream." He tore the soft elastic training wear down to her ankles, and jerked the stretchy fabric off over her sneakers. "You just hold on for this ride..." He hissed, looking into her eyes with a smug grin.

"Someone's very confident."

"You picked me. Twice now." He slammed his long, pale length into her soft, wet tunnel, finding it already slightly open from her obvious arousal. "Got plenty to be confident about."

And about ten minutes later, when her long, satisfied cry shook the silent house, and his fangs sank into her neck, she had to admit he was right.

"I can get my crew to come and work on the weekend, Joyce. We can have this place fixed in no time." Xander finished boarding up the door, giving Dawn's chin a playful tweak for being his assistant.

"Plus- destruction- lots of free publicity." Anya cleared the last pizza box away.

"I'm not so sure how Mr. Samson will feel about that. One of his sculptures got destroyed." Joyce picked up two pieces of marble that had met an untimely end when Spike or Angel had hurtled into the display stand it was resting on.

"He can make another one, right?" Buffy said hopefully, leaning on her broom.

"It took him a year to chisel it." Joyce said with closed eyes.

"I'm so sorry." Spike muttered for about the tenth time. Not one for apologizing, he did genuinely feel bad. If he hadn't been there, Angel would never even have stopped for a look. An' Joyce was a nice lady, an' they had lots of bills to pay. She didn't need this.

"Apologize one more time, and you_ will _clean out the garage." Joyce threatened him. "Buffy- tell him he's a hero."

"Do I have to? My tongue might shrivel up and die." She moaned.

"Oooh, I like that idea. Get some blessed silence at home. Tell me, Slayer. Who's the hero?" Spike taunted. He got punched in the shoulder for his trouble, but they were both smiling.

"Observe the mating ritual of the weirdos." Dawn commented loudly.

"Please! No mating. There must be no use of the m-word, Dawnie." Xander paled.

"Oh, get _over_ it." Spike groaned, frustration in every word.

"Th-they kind of have been a couple for awhile now." Tara and Willow stopped trying to magically reconstruct a display case. They'd done some minor work, repaired a few less complex items, but anything that had been reduced to powder wasn't responding.

"We're not a couple." Spike and Buffy spoke in unison. A couple seemed too ordinary a word for what they were.

"Buffy!" Joyce glared.

"Mom!" Buffy threw up her hands.

"We're all tired. Can we go to bed, please? It's nearly midnight." Giles was the tired voice of reason.

"I just need to rearrange the safe. I have to fit way more in there than I planned to. Spike? Will you take the girls home?"

"My pleasure." Spike agreed quickly. Xander rolled his eyes and mouthed "kiss ass". Spike snarled and clenched a fist. He was spared the indignity of not being able to follow through on his empty posturing when Buffy smiled sweetly and asked,

"What was that, Xan?"

"Uhh- good night?" He said in a hopeful tone.

"Uh-huh." Buffy crossed her arms scornfully. "Mom, we can wait until you've finished. I don't want you here alone."

"I'll stay with her." Giles said quickly.

"Oh. Thanks." In a sudden rush of affection, she kissed her Watcher's slightly stubbled cheek. "Thank you for being there for her." She hissed in his ear.

"Always." He mumbled, a ghost of a smile lighting his features. Dawn was next in line. Often uninhibited, she hugged him hard around the middle, burrowing into the soft warmth of him, resting her head on his chest for a moment.

_My dad used to hug me like this. Only- he didn't really. I've never actually met him... I've talked to him on the phone once. All the memories of being held by a father are made up._ That stabbed at her suddenly and she pulled away. "Thanks, Giles. I know Mom's safe with you."

"Well, I do try." He gave a tight smile, unused to so much physical affection. He was quite surprised when Anya barreled into him as well.

"Don't have sex on the floor. I think we got all the glass, but you never know."

"Anya!" Giles turned pink and immediately yanked his glasses off for a good polish.

"And that'd be our cue to leave. Now. Without more talking." Xander yanked his fiancée away with an embarrassed wave and didn't look at Joyce or Giles.

With a lot of garbled talking about reconvening and plans for the next few days, the group fragmented. Spike took Buffy and Dawn home, Willow and Tara caught a ride with Xander, and Giles and Joyce were left alone in the disheveled gallery.

"I'm relieved you're alright." Giles whispered, his voice grave and low.

"It was a lot of fuss over nothing, wasn't it?" Joyce sighed with a sad smile.

"_You_ are not 'nothing'. You're valuable. Don't you see that? Two of the most feared vampires of our times were fighting to keep you safe." He took her shoulders and peered into her eyes.

"_Spike _was fighting to keep me safe because he loves_ me_. _Angel _fought to keep me safe because he loves _Buffy_. Or he thinks he owes it to Buffy, or to the world. Or because he hates Spike." She shook her head with a chuckle. "But, Rupert, I meant it was all over a misunderstanding. Although I appreciate you thinking I'm worth all this mayhem."

"You are worth anything to me." He stroked a finger down her cheek. "Wait- did you say Spike-?" His tender moment derailed in surprise.

"Loves me. Yes. Like a mother, and don't ask me why, or how. Just accept it." She laughed into his startled face.

"Did he _say_ that?"

"Rupert. What part of just accept it did you miss?"

"Right, sorry. I suppose it is possible. He _does_ love Buffy." Joyce moved away from him, gathering items to take to the safe, or barring that, the back room that served as a sort of break room with a television, table, and coffee pot, or the tiny office beside it. At least those rooms still had doors and they locked.

"Here, help me get the rest of the things onto the top shelf." Joyce called to her willing assistant.

"Yes, coming." Giles swallowed and watched her moving about. The words he wanted to say, all the fear he felt, it was all juggling around in his brain, and failing to come out each time. He helped her with the last bits, and waited until they were in the back room, locking the way behind them, preparing to go out into the alley. "Joyce?"

"Mhm?" She felt a strange tingle of trepidation when he said her name. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, looking back over her shoulder.

"This makes the fourth time this year that I thought I might lose you."

"Oh, Honey. We live on Hellmouth. It's not exactly a low crime area."

"I understand. And, not to be playing a silly game of "whose is best", but my line of work is likely to get me killed, and a great deal more quickly. I accept that. I do not accept that something as simple as- as lack of courage is going to keep us from making the most out of what time we have. Whether it's a month or a millennium."

"What are you saying?" Joyce watched wide eyed as he took both of her hands, gazing intently into her eyes. "Courage?"

"My lack thereof. Breaking rules, or protocols. Social conventions or ancient unwritten codes of Watcher etiquette." He laughed. "Fate's given me the glove four times in under a year."

"Are you saying I'm - that _you think_ I'm part of your fate, or something?" A smile touched her lips, and she tilted her head slightly, looking into his exhausted features.

"Would you mind if you were?" He swallowed.

Her eyes widened further. Silence clogged her throat, and logic tried to prevent her from making a simple answer, throwing reason after reason at her. _You are a middle aged woman. Divorced. Single parent. You do not get to have "fate" enter into your life_. But logic didn't win, not when there was so much evidence to the contrary. "No. I- I don't know if it's true. But I wouldn't mind."

"I don't think what I want to say will make you happy. You'll think I'm a damn fool. But I think I'd be a worse fool to wait any longer." His face was growing hotter, a flush creeping up past his collar. He'd never imagined he'd ask anyone what he wanted to ask her. If he did- he imagined it would be an extremely formal occasion, carefully scripted, planned, every moment leading to it would have been slowly and deliberately calculated to make sure there would be no risk of rejection. It shouldn't happen in the back of a destroyed store on the Hellmouth, with both of them looking tired and rumpled, all her make up off, his beard coming in. "Joyce- did you ever think you might- want to marry again?" He asked hoarsely.

Her jaw dropped and wobbled. That wasn't exactly what she had imagined he'd ask. It was a lead in. "Truthfully, yes, I guess I hoped it would be a possibility. But that was before I realized how unique my situation was. With this town, and what Buffy is. What Dawn was." She explained.

"What if the man who loved you was aware of the situation? Intimately aware?" He pressed. I_'m doing this wrong. All wrong. She'll never agree, not when I can't even ask her properly..._

"That would make a difference." She swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat. _It's too fast. Love or not, death around every turn or not, the only thing worse than not being married is being married and knowing it won't last. We've barely gone out, I can't risk this ending badly. Even if we broke up- he'd still have to work with Buffy. I can't do this..._

"You're probably wondering why you should trust me with something so valuable as your life, your happiness, the happiness of your children. I only want to tell you- that I won't fail you, Joycie. If one of us went tomorrow, I'd at least like to know that I was brave enough to ask for the honor of being your-" he choked out the word, "husband."

"Oh, Rupert, that's so sweet-" She felt herself tearing up.

"But you can't say yes. I understand. It's too fast, and I know that. Would you be willing to consider it a standing offer?" He gave a wan smile.

"I would be willing to consider it a wonderful offer. I would be willing to consider it, and- and someday I would love to give you an answer. It's just so fast. I understand what you mean about not wasting the time we have left. I do a need a little more time to get to know you, think about things. Please understand." She pleaded.

"Of course. Of course." He smiled, chest unclenching as his anxiety left. It wasn't that she had rejected him. Merely wanted to take things more slowly. That was the logical, sensible thing to do. The best thing to do. "I do love you."

"I do love you." She brushed her lips to his and they smiled. "Are you disappointed?" She bit her lip. It would be wonderful to give in, be swept up in their love. She knew in her heart of hearts, that even if they wouldn't have a fairy tale relationship, it would be a good one. One she wouldn't lose to anything like infidelity or abuse. He was a truly loyal man. A man she could love, and didn't want to hurt.

"Elated, actually. You'll think it over. I'll convince you in time. I'm persistent. Ask Buffy, I've managed to tame her slightly." They laughed.

"You wish. That girl is untamable. But you _do_ have a way with her. You have her undying love and trust. You're getting mine, too."

"Then I shall be content to wait until you're comfortable. But at least I've asked." He offered her his arm, and she took it. They exchanged a smile and locked the door behind them as they stepped out into the sprinkling summer night.

"You're a very sweet man. I just need time to think, you understand." She looked up at him gratefully.

"I do! I didn't intend to pressure, Luv, only to let you know how I- get down!" Giles interrupted his explanation as he heard the tell tale sound of a vampire snarl, a sound of a human with a feral beast trapped inside. He shoved Joyce to the wall, grabbed the stake that was always somewhere upon his person, this time in his trouser pocket. With a whirl and a lunge, he impaled the creature that sprang on them from the shadow of the dumpster. "Bastards! Honestly, this is a decent part of town!" Giles muttered angrily, brushing dust off of himself. "I'm sorry, Joyce. Are you alright?" He extended his hand and helped her up.

"I think I've had my fill of hostile vampires for tonight. Oh! I tore my skirt." She straightened herself up with an angry frown.

"We'll get it mended. I'm actually not too bad with a needle. It'll look like sutures if I try though, so perhaps I'd best let the professionals do it." He put his arm around her protectively, and scanned the area. "I think it was just the one. I've got you." He reassured in a soft, soothing voice.

"I know." She nodded, and leaned her head on his shoulder. He did have her. She could manage. She had always managed. But it was nice, not to _have _to manage alone.

"Now, what were we saying?" Giles attempted to lighten the mood as they walked to Joyce's car.

"It doesn't matter. I don't think that the conversation is relevant anymore." She halted as they drew up to her rain spattered black Jeep.

"Oh." A world of hurt in that single syllable. "I understand. Well, I can see why you-"

"Rupert. I've done my thinking. I guess I didn't need as much time as I thought."

"Oh?" This time a surge of hope and a spasm of shock escaped in one tiny utterance.

"I'm not sure when it will be- but yes. My answer is yes."

"Yes?" He clarified, suddenly pressing his chest to hers, turning, no longer offering her a shoulder to lean on, but instead a full embrace.

"Yes. Consider yourself an engaged man."

"An engaged man." He breathed.

Joyce's laugh rang out when they smashed into the side of the car, before her lips were sealed by his joyous kiss.

Buffy broke their impassioned kisses long enough to gasp, "You didn't tell me what you want."

"I have what I want." Spike slithered his body between the sheets and settled on top of her more firmly.

"I want to give you something special."

He closed his eyes. He had all of her. That was as special as it got. She loved him, chose him, knew him and accepted the parts she couldn't change, teased him about the parts she wanted to. "I- I have what I want." Earlier he could have thought of a hundred things to do, positions to try, toys to find, boundaries to test. They'd all paled once they made it to their room. _I'm getting soft._ It made him angry. He wasn't taking advantage of the Slayer in the way any vampire would love to.

_That's 'cause I'm not any vamp, and she's not just "the Slayer". I don't need to make her give me anything, I don't need to ask for anything for a reward. I could ask her to try a million things and she'd do it because she wanted to learn with me_. "I don't want a reward."

"But you earned it." She looked puzzled. "I want to make you happy."

"You do. I think you'd do anything I asked."

"I would." She shivered slightly. There wasn't a single thing she could think of that she wouldn't do. Oh, she could think of things she'd never consent to, painful or degrading things, things involving other people. But he wouldn't ask for that, it wasn't what either of them would want. _We're in love. We don't hurt, and we don't share. I know anything he'd suggest would be good, something I'd want, even if I never tried it before._

"You pick out the reward then. Some other time, I'll pick out some naughty little fantasy, and we can play a bit. For tonight- just know I did what I did 'cause I wanted to, and I didn't expect anything out of it."

"This is your reward." She leaned up and pecked his lips, quickly and chastely.

"Gotta admit, that wasn't what I expected." They both laughed softly.

"I wanted that out of the way. Reward is done. No more you being Mr. I- Earned-It guy. This is no longer about _deserve_." She beamed up at him playfully.

He was catching on. "Oh, I see." He purred. "So now we're just like any other hot to trot couple with about an hour to kill before we fall asleep exhausted."

"Maybe two hours." She traced one of his small, dark nipples.

"I'll see that." He hissed and arched into her touch.

"I really would do anything for you." She swallowed as he moved to the side, wrapping his arms around her. "I know we don't do the big speech thing much, but I love you, Spike. Like, I really love you." She stroked his face. "Like the way we said we wouldn't feel about each other." She whispered. She felt herself getting warm and pink in a way that had nothing to do with arousal. She knew it was safe to tell Spike how she felt, it was just odd to feel it. "I'm sorry. I'm killing our naughty fun time mood." She began to laugh off what she'd said and let her hands do the talking.

He caught her hands as they started aiming below his hips. "You didn't kill the mood." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I feel that way, too."

"Kind of sappy and mushy?"

"Not sappy. Mushy might enter into it." He closed his eyes again, gathering up courage. "Don't stake me for this- but you know how I feel- I _felt_ about Dru?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"I love you in a different way. But the amount of love is the same. Sometimes, I think it might be worse. Better. Dammit, girl. What'd you do to me?" He asked in an awed tone, hands caressing her face wonderingly.

"Whatever I did, you did it back." Her voice was sinking, and he felt her tensing, smelt her tears starting, fresh hints of salt striking his sensitive nostrils.

"Shhh, Baby. You don't need to worry, Luv." He pulled her in tight and said something that he didn't usually say, that she didn't usually need to hear, want to hear. "I won't let anything hurt you. Keep you safe here, Buffy."

"I never thought I would love anyone after Angel. I loved him so much. I tried to move on, and- and I couldn't, I was just pretending, and then with you- it was so good, and so weird, but it was really easy you know?" She gasped out in a babbling rush, eyes begging him to understand.

"Yeah. It was easy, 'cause we didn't have to second guess. Just knew things." _An' I didn't have to try to decode anything worse than valley girl slang, not one of Drusilla's incessant, whimperin' visions._

"I didn't want to hurt him when I saw him. I mean, I wanted to punch his face in for messing up the store and hurting you and scaring Mom. But I didn't want to give him any pain. And that was it. Spike- I really _did_ move on. You- wow. I love you, like I didn't love him. I think it's more." She clutched him convulsively. "Please don't ever do- what he did."

"I swear, Luv, even if I got the chip out tomorrow, I'd never-"

"No! Don't leave. Don't ever leave me." She sniffed. "God, I'm really pathetic, aren't I?" She gave him a teary smile.

"You're not! I don't want you to leave me, either. We've both been left. Hurts too much." He held her gaze, falling more in love with her every second, no trace of cool detachment remaining, cursing himself for it and giving into it at the same moment. "I thought I'd die without her. I_ know_ I'd die without you." He whispered hoarsely.

_He's tearing up, too._ Buffy looked at those dark blue eyes in amazement. He might have had hints of "something in my eye" before, when talking about his mother or hers. Maybe once or twice there had been a single teary brightness of relief, when he thought she'd been about to get taken out of the game, but hadn't. "You mean it."

"Yes, I fuckin' mean it." He growled, and a tear overflowed. "You ever tell any-" He didn't get to finish his threat because her frantic kiss.

"I love you." She whispered.

"Love you, too, Baby." They rolled again. This time she was on top,, but she didn't stay there, she moved like lightening, never leaving his body, just sliding down it, reaching back to hit the stereo, give them some noise cover, and up, to hit the lights, wanting to feel safe and warm in the darkness, knowing he could see her secrets, but losing herself when she thought that he'd be the only one who could._ I _am_ safe with him._

"This is special to me. All of this. More and more all the time." She gasped when he caught her as she drew back from the bedside table, pulling her down. They exchanged hungry, desperate kisses.

"I know, Pet. Me, too. More than you can guess."

"No, I can guess how much." _Such a long time to work for love, and then find it, plop- right where it should no way in hell ever be._ "We- we don't have to act like it to the rest of the world-"

"-but in here, we're all those things we ever wanted. Romeo and Juliet, Bonnie and Clyde. As good or as bad as we want, but always-" His fingers softened on her arms where they had been holding her, "completely, desperately in love." _William, you finally got what you wanted. And Spike, too. Even the demon. She's our everything._

"I bet you crack first. In public." She teased.

"I bet it'll be both of us. At the exact same time." He laughed, throat still passion raw and husky. "C'mere."

_Just when I thought it couldn't feel any better, or even any different,_ Buffy mused, letting him lead her in kisses, _it gets more amazing. It's more open than it's ever been. It should feel all tender and sweet- it does- but it also feels deeper, darker. More intense. I'm not afraid of anything when I'm with him._

_She's got every inch of me. I don't mean inside her, because that's common. She got me to trust her, let her in. I'm a fool for love, but I think I'm a safe one this time. _

"Easy now." He murmured, and they slowly slid together. "There." She sat on top of him, pulsing gently on his thickness. "You're beautiful."

"So are you." She smiled. "You feel so good... better than ever."

"I know what you mean." He grinned, wincing in pleasure as her heat milked him. "Not too cold for you?"

"Are you kidding? I am permanently set on Spike temperature. Besides- you know you warm right up to my level pretty quick. This part warms up the quickest." She deliberately used her slayer strength to shudder around him, and he gasped.

She didn't know what song they were listening to, something fast and loud, one of his choices. The pounding rhythm pushed into her ears, and into her hips. She felt herself bucking on him, harder, and harder, and still not able to find just what she wanted, even though she felt herself having a series of tiny mini-gasms. "Need you." She clawed his shoulders and whimpered.

"Bloody fuckin' hell, you've got me." He reminded her, the little digs of her nails and the constant pounding pushing him nearer and nearer to the edge, but he refused to go over it. She hadn't. "Not in the right spot, Luv?"

"You are. I just- more." She explained incoherently. He worked his shoulders up with a grunt, and they remained locked together, him sitting up now, her riding.

"That better?" It was certainly better for him. They were able to hold each other much more fully, his hands dug into her soft round cheeks, a finger tip tickling both her entrances, head dipping to tease her nipple.

"Better. Much, much-" She grabbed the back of his hair with a sharp tug, not hard enough to hurt, but in desperation. _Need to see him, Need to have him see me. I love him, I never ever want to let him go. He's mine, he's all mine, forever, until we die together, going something stupid that he's helping me with._ "My Spike."

"My Buffy. Beautiful Buffy." He whispered, feeling her spasms rising. "Look at you. Perfect. An' I make you feel like this." He smirked, watching her features clenching as her peak approached.

"Only you. Ever." Again she acted in desperation. She felt herself release and she smashed her mouth to the side of his pulseless neck, where the pulse should be, and bit down. Hard. More than a hickey, more than a love bite. Something in the back of her mind seemed to register that if his bites made her feel good, hers would make him feel even better.

He roared, not yelled, not shouted, or cried out like a human. It was a panther-like reverberation that echoed in her ears and heralded his sharp bursting inside her. "That was a good noise, right?" She panted, flopping backwards, on to her back, him on top of her.

"Bloody hell, yes." He rubbed his sensitive neck against her hand as she smoothed it over his face. Another shudder went over his frame. "God, Buffy. Do more of that sometime, yeah?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you." She winced when she saw she'd broken the skin, only just, but still broken, in two places.

"Hurt? Hurt?" He rolled her on top of him, looking up at her with boyish delight. Their motion broke them apart and they paused to share a brief moan of loss. "It doesn't fucking hurt, woman! It's amazing. You've never bit me like that."

"I- I get bitten, but I can't bite you back. Not with fangs. When you do it, it feels so good, so I thought I'd try anyway?" She looked pleased with herself, but still hesitant. During their lovemaking, his fangs slipped inside her and activated nerves that seemed to run straight to her core, pulsing in her womb and her pussy, making the whole chain from neck to loins come alive. All _she_ did was bruise the skin.

"Well, Luv, try it as much as you'd like." He rumbled out a throaty chuckle.

"It can't feel the same, I don't slip inside, like you do with your pointy teeth deal."

"Doesn't matter. It's a vampire erogenous zone or somethin', alright? I'm tellin' you- do it again."

"I will. I promise." She snuggled close to him, tasting his skin, feeling him still jutting between their torsos, now wet and sticky, but no less hard, and probably tired of being rushed to service without any extra attention. A quickie in the kitchen earlier, and now the loving conversation that had ended up with them making love with only verbal foreplay.

"Where're you goin' missy?" Spike sighed, watching her kisses take a deliberate downward path.

"My lollipop. You told me I could have it." She winked.

"A year and a half ago, you were so flustered, you couldn't even tell me whether or not you were okay with puttin' me in your pretty little mouth." He referred to their unusual one night stand that had started them down this path.

"A year and a half ago, I didn't love you. I didn't even like you. You were a mean, snarky bastard- oh wait. Still are. I've just learned to live with it." She lapped at the pool of their essences that rested just below his navel.

"Hey! I'll take my Spike-pop away from you." He made an empty threat. After that first time, on their second time, months after the first, (another intended once and done deal, but his plans never, _ever_ worked when she was around) she took him into her mouth. It had been good, but he could never have imagined she'd fall in love with him, with sucking on him, with his juice, with their combination of flavors. She licked him in a long, teasing swipe. No, he'd never take it away.

"Still want to take it away from me?"

"Nope. You can have it. Although, you may not get to do that test about how many licks it takes to get to the creamy center."

"No, I see that." She brought her mouth up to his and they shared a kiss. "If anyone but you had told me to try this- this sharing fluids thing-" she gave a shudder, "I would have said it was mega gross. But since you're kind of just me with a twist, I trusted you." She pouted at him for a minute before returning to her work. "You used to get to so upset when I said I trusted you."

"Stupid git." He berated his former self complacently. Her mouth was sinking lower and lower, taking more and more of him, then stopping and peppering little kisses all over his thighs and stomach. "Of course you could trust me. You can. I'd never hurt my girl." His demon no longer even made a token protest. It liked blood, violence, and carnal pleasures. He was getting them. _This tiny little package owns all of me._ It was no longer a negative thought.

"I know. All the places and things you explore with me. I'm never scared anymore." She nuzzled the underside of his cock affectionately. Her head was burrowed in between his legs, licking sucking on his sensitive sack, something she'd only recently discovered they both enjoyed. "You don't push me to try things- not in a bad way." She was muffled, and not caring, mind and mouth wandering aimlessly, ears listening to his happy little noises and feeling his subtle shifts. "Even when we didn't love each other, the way you touched me was kind, pleasurable... Now when you touch me, even in places I as worried about-" She brushed her finger tip lightly across the indentation between his pale cheeks, so he would know what she referred to. He jumped slightly and her head popped up, apology in her eyes. Even in the darkness, she knew he could see it. "I only wanted -"

"Feels nice, Pet." His voice was soft and controlled.

"This?" She rubbed him in a circle, lightly, gently.

"Mhmm. Does it bother you that I like it?" He rested his hand on her golden hair, pleased when he felt her shaking her head in a vigorous denial.

"No! Not at all." She wiggled up against him, hand still resting between his thighs, but now her head was on his side, mid chest level. "I just didn't want to weird you out."

"It doesn't bother me, if it doesn't bother you. It's not something we have to get into." In truth, her touch on so intimate a spot made him feel a slight prickle of apprehension at the base of his stomach. He and Drusilla had fucked seven ways from Sunday, but they were animals in bed. They did everything at least once, some things he would never want to repeat. Animals. Loving animals, but it wasn't like that with Buffy. With her, sex meant something. Slipping someone inside yourself- you weren't more possessed than that. _An' she lets you. Let you slip inside both her hot little holes, inside her mouth, inside her skin and her veins. God, you own every inch of that girl, an' you can let her own you in the same way, if she wants. _

"If it makes you feel good, will you teach me how?" _I could give him what I was trying to give him earlier. I wanted to slip inside, but I don't have the fangs. I want to feel him like he feels me. I love being linked with him, wrapping around him. That will always be the best, being filled by him, loved by him in every place he can fit. I want to give him that. If it's okay to do. What am I doing, I don't know how to make him feel that. It would just be weird. Maybe he'd feel like I was invading him, not making love with my fingers._ "You said it doesn't hurt?"

"Not unless you make it hurt. An' you know you can't hurt me, Luv. You don't have to hold back."

"When you're inside me- I feel better. I feel connected to you and close. I'm not saying I want to give up my right as being the one who gets you slipped inside-" They shared an affectionate look of understanding, "but I want to touch you the same way, if it makes you happy."

"You're a beautiful girl, and you think too much." Spike wrapped her in one arm and pulled her up, her hand leaving the spot she had so recently discovered. "We'll be more intimate than ever after this. You want that?"

"Please." She blushed.

"Then go to town, Pet." He leaned back, relaxed and grinning. She had to giggle. "Laughin' at me's not very nice when I'm letting myself get all opened up for you." He said with teasing sternness.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just that in my head this is some deep, big deal. You're so relaxed."

"Why shouldn't I be? You won't hurt me, it's gonna feel good. Yeah, it's a new thing, makes us closer, but it won't be a major thing. Just a new thing."

"You're smart. It's very annoying."

"True. On both counts." He guided her head back down to his hardness. "You keep your mouth busy, Luv. Your fingers will know what to do."

"You better tell me what to do! I never- you know. _Did this_."

"You rub, you push, you have tiny little fingers. One goes in. Let's start with that."

"Slippery stuff." She demanded, holding out her hand.

"I don't need that." Spike scoffed.

"Fine, you can be all big and tough. _I'm_ being a good lover, like you are to me. Gimme the slippery stuff or I'll bite."

"Oooh, bite away." Spike shivered pleasurably, with his cockiest grin. All the same, he reached back and retrieved the "slippery stuff" as she called it. "You're aces, Pet. It's gonna be brilliant. An' I plan to return the favor, if you want."

"Always." She dripped just a drop on her finger tip and massaged slowly. _He's so perfect. Every inch of him. I love this man. I hope he knows that. And I hope no one ever hurt him here, I only want him to have good memories. Isn't that so silly? He's gotta be a hundred and fifty something, I can't control what happened to him before I was even born. I guess that's what being in love does to you. Makes you worry about silly things you can't control._ "Am I in the right spot?" She whispered, teasing her slender finger gently against him.

"Push in, Buffy, you're driving me insane."

She wrapped her lips around his tip and pushed. His knees involuntarily spread wider apart and he groaned softly. "Good noise?" Her voice was constricted.

"Bleedin' good noise. Been a long time for this." She slipped right in, and sent all his nerve endings skipping off in euphoria.

"Now what?"

"You know. You- take control." Perfectly calm, perfectly serious.

_It's a gift for me. He's letting me feel what he feels._ "I'm the boss?"

"I don't know about _that_." He smirked.

"Tell me what feels good." She wiggled inside him, and his cock twitched against her cheek.

"That, for starters."

He was so smooth inside, tight and perfect. The only soft spot she had ever found on him, aside from the inside of his mouth. "You're all velvety smooth. Is that what I feel like?"

"No. You feel a million times better, sweeter, and hotter. I'm prob'ly cold inside. Nothin' ever gets used there, it's just 'alive feelin'' 'cause of borrowed blood flowin'."

"It's amazing. And it makes you-" Her fingers probed up, and he hissed. "Oh God! Spike, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She withdrew hastily.

"Go back , right now!" He ordered, grabbing her wrist. "Good noises! If it hurts, I'll say 'ouch', okay?"

It took a little while, but they got comfortable with it. Buffy sat on her knees, two fingers slowly, gently gliding in and out, tapping the spot she'd found under the base of his cock, listening to his soft moans, different from his usual aggressive timbres. "You're gonna make me cum." He breathed out at one point.

"Just from putting two fingers here?" She pressed up and inwards harder than before.

"There's no 'just', Luv." His laugh was strained, jaw tight. "I've got the most beautiful girl in the world givin' me an internal hand job. She loves me, and she has these pretty little titties right where I can grab 'em. I'm in heaven. I didn't think demons were allowed in, but maybe if we tag along with a slayer..."

She moved faster, finding a rhythm, keeping her fingers curled upwards. She watched one of his hands trail around her back and felt it invade her soft channel. She hadn't known doing this would feel so good for her, she'd thought it was just for him, to please him. Now she was beyond aroused, watching him writhe. Her walls fluttered on his finger as he pleasured her as best he could while lost in his own sensations.

In a moment, his other hand joined hers, wrapped around his shaft. "Ready?"

"I was hoping you'd finish inside me. I wanna feel what I did to you, what I made you do."

"Ooh, Pet. Don't you want to feel it happening from the inside? Like I get to do with you?" He tempted.

"Damn. That's no fair. That's like choosing between brownies or chocolate ice cream."

"You can make a brownie sundae. I think you can, but it might be tricky."

" Do both things at once? I'll try it. Tricky is good."

"Well, if you didn't have slayer flexibility, I don't think it would work, still might not work. Can you get on top- facing away from me, and still keep your fingers inside?"

"But I wanna watch your face." She pouted.

"I'd offer you a mirror, Pet, but you can't have everything." He spread his legs wider apart in effort to brace and not cum until she was settled. "Your call, but you decide fast, okay?"

"Okay." She stayed leaning over, rolling forward, hand never breaking contact with his spasming orifice, and sat herself firmly on him.

It was the addition of her heat that did it, when she was already putting so much pressure on him from the inside. His fingers marred her skin in a wild clutch and he emptied himself inside her as soon as she was fully on.

Buffy cried out with his relieved groans. "Oh my God. Oh_ God_!" His walls spasmed and clenched inside and he exploded. Literally burst like a two liter bottle of coke exploding, that was the mental image she came up with. Not the quantity, but the ferocity. Her hand slipped out and she put a hand on each of his thighs, plunging herself down onto his still quaking cock in an effort to capture her own orgasm. It came, swift and hard, and she collapsed, face down, her head at the foot of the bed, sprawled in the opposite way from him.

For several moments there was only silence and heavy breathing. No one moved, too spent, too overwhelmed by the intimacy and the downright overflow of passion.

He moved first, hands on her waist, tugging her up, and into his arms. She clung to him and nuzzled him, kissing him like she could never get enough. "Told you it'd be incredible."

"Thanks for letting me. I know what you said, about it not being a big deal, but it was. I think it is for men, I don't care what you say." She looked into his eyes, her own sparkling, her cheeks flushed. "So thank you for letting me have you, kinda the way you have me."

"You're smarter than you look, you know." He murmured. "Yeah, it can be a big deal. Never did that with anyone but Dru, and it didn't mean much to me. It was just for pleasure. What you did- no, what _we _did, made me feel like I'm yours."

"You're mine."

Claim words. Spike held his ravenous demon in with an effort. "Love you."

"I love you. You can- if you want to-" She blushed and trailed off. He let one eyebrow slowly stray upwards, looking at her in puzzlement. "I'm yours, too. Any way you want me."

"I hate to disappoint. I'm usually good for a few more rounds." Spike gestured to his resting organ. "That was intense. God knows you smell, and taste good enough to reanimate any man, livin' or dead." He licked a sweet salty trail across her throat. "Just need a minute." Then a wicked smile crossed his face and he flipped her neatly onto her back, muscles complaining slightly as he did.

"What?" She giggled softly. In a moment his head was down where hers had been a moment ago, hands pushing her legs up and out. "Spike!"

She heard a bottle top flip open and then press closed. With a malicious grin, her lover held up two slick fingers. "Thought I'd return the favor while we're waitin'. If you'd like."

"I'd love." She threw her head back and looked at the ceiling. "This has been a pretty good day, all things considered."

"Yeah, well let's not tell your mum that opinion." Spike laughed and slipped gently inside her.

"Let me run you home." Giles murmured into her mussed hair.

"No, then the Jeep will still be here at your place." Joyce protested.

"But you've had such a trying day." He countered. "And it's very, very late."

"This has been a very, very good day. Yesterday was bad. Today is good. Technically you proposed today, since it was after midnight." She pointed out.

"I see where Buffy mastered her unique rationalization skills." He smiled. "Fine. Today is good. I'll see you tonight, my love. I'll make it even better."


	6. Chapter 6

If You're Sure

By Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life._

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes..._

_Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, jmoran319, and Olfactory-Ventriloquism_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part VI

_About three and a half weeks before the wedding..._

"I think I should tell them. Explain my intentions are honorable, put them at ease."

"Rupert, I'm their mother. _I _should tell them."

"Please, Joyce, I know you've got a valid point, but Buffy and I have a certain- bond. I don't know whether she'll come up at me with a weapon or a large hug." Giles laughed softly as he and his very new fiancée slowly walked from the sandwich shop back to her gallery.

"She won't attack you." Joyce shook her head in amusement. "Oh! That's Xander's work truck pulling up! He must have been able to convince some of his friends to come today." She picked up her pace.

"But- what about the children?"

"Giles, there's no rush to tell them, is there? It isn't like the wedding will be anytime soon." Joyce took his hand in hers, tugging him alongside her.

"There might not be a rush to tell, or for the ceremony. But Buffy always knows when I'm hiding something." He sighed.

"Hmm. That's a point. And Spike gave me a suspicious glance yesterday too. He said I seemed very pleased for a woman who'd just had half of her art gallery destroyed."

"Between Spike's perception and Buffy's unique Watcher-Slayer radar, I would like to tell them. And the sooner I do-" He bent his head gently to hers, resting it above her shoulder as they walked along, "the sooner I can put your engagement ring on your finger, Joycie."

"Rupert! We agreed. I don't need a ring." She flushed with girlish enthusiasm at his words, even though her practical, mature-woman side said it was just a waste of money that neither of them really needed to put forth.

"I didn't agree. I merely said you were right. You don't _need _a ring. I should like to give you one. 'Cause you're my girl." His voice went from responsible and tweedy to boyish and leathery in a moment.

"Oh." She felt herself flush more deeply at his words. She loved this man. He brought out the young, carefree side of her as well as supporting the necessary evil of being responsible and adult. "Well...since you put it like that, we'll compromise. I'll tell Dawn. You can tell Buffy."

"Before the day is out?"

"Yes. And then you're coming over to a family dinner. Just the five of us?"

"Five- oh. Spike."

"Rupert..." Joyce's tone warned him to tread carefully.

"He gets on my nerves. Although I owe him several eternal debts of gratitude, so I suppose I can share a meal on occasion."

"More than that Rupert." She teased him unmercifully, but figured he deserved it- it was his fault her juvenile streak had emerged. "If you marry me anytime soon- you'll be sharing a house with him."

"Dear Lord." He turned a pale shade of gray. "I did that before, for several weeks. Of course- he was much more unruly then. Nonetheless- take the fact that I'm willing to consider living in the same house with him as a deep proof of my undying love."

"Or you're really horny." She nipped his ear as they kissed goodbye in front of the gallery.

"Minx." He squeezed her bottom. "It's both."

"Mmhmm." She laughed and returned his intimate embrace.

"Oh! Holy good gravy! No senior groping!" Xander walked out the boarded up door and past the couple, wincing when he saw them pawing each other. "Innocent man here- just getting some panes of glass!"

"Senior?" Joyce and Giles said indignantly.

"Sorry. Bad choice of words." He shrugged apologetically. "You're still both hot stuff- okay? But- keep it away from me."

"Do you seriously think you have a hope in hell of persuading me not to touch the woman I love? After what I have to witness you and Anya doing when you think I'm not paying attention?"

Xander had the grace to blush. "Carry on." He said quickly, and fled.

"Ripper's a little bit of an exhibitionist." Joyce purred.

"I seem to recall you taking me to heaven and back in the middle of a street- not too far from here actually."

"Go now- before I muss you up and do it again." She tweaked his tie and he blushed.

"Now?" Buffy put her legs down reluctantly. "I thought you said two full sets." She looked at Giles.

"I did. Wasn't that two full sets?" Giles had been monitoring Buffy's workout in the training room, but though his eyes were trained on the lithe, flexible form on the mat, his mind was elsewhere. Hence, telling her to stop her reps before time, apparently.

"That was a set and half. Not even. What's up Watcher-Mine? Is this about demony yuck or Mom-and-Gilesy goodness?"

"The, uh, second choice." He watched her rise, and patted to a stack of mats. She sat, and he pulled up a small wooden stool to face her. "Buffy-"

"Oh no. You have serious face. Major serious face! Are you breaking up with her?" Buffy looked horrified, and quickly tucked her knees under her, making herself taller. _I love him. I love her. I can't pick between my mother and my Watcher. Plus, he's like my dad-guy and friend. I need him. But family comes first. But he's my family, too..._

"Buffy? Buffy!" Giles watched the panic spiraling out of control behind her troubled brow and sparkling green eyes. "I am not breaking up with your mother, you foolish girl."

"Hey! Not foolish." She calmed enough to retort.

"Very well. You- silly?- girl."

"Hellmouth, plus dating, usually equals bad. Forgive my lapse of trust." She sighed, sitting back down, cross legged.

"Understandable." He smiled, rewarded with the lopsided grin he loved so much. "Please don't interrupt me, I want to tell you something very important."

"Starting to wig again..." Buffy warned, but she was still smiling.

"I love your mother. Very, very much."

"Good." Buffy breathed, clearly relieved and disregarding the order not to interrupt.

_She never listens fully. Almost never. I suppose I should just muddle through as best I can._ Giles smiled back, unable to help himself. "I love you. And Dawn. Again, very, very much."

"We love you, too." She rocked forward, kissed his forehead and rocked back. He blushed and removed his glasses.

"Buffy- you realize that this is a dangerous world-"

"Vampires tipped me off, yeah." She rolled her arms.

"-and none of us are guaranteed the next day, let alone the next year, or decade." He continued patiently.

"I know." Her silliness fled, and she became as grave as he was. That had been one of the things she was realizing afresh. Now that she was in love, that it didn't feel so oddly empty inside. Only last night, when she was wrapped in Spike's arms, she was thinking she'd better make each time count. _What if they'd never gotten to say goodbye? What if tonight was goodbye? You can't live worrying like that..._

"I would like to make the second half of my life better than the first. I know Joyce's life has been filled with blessings, she had a husband, two beautiful, incredible daughters." He touched her cheek gently.

"Giles- it's okay. You don't have to make up the happy family scenario for me. It was Dad and me. No Dawn. And part of the time, no Dad. Part of the time, no me... I didn't want that!" Her eyes blazed suddenly.

"I know, Buffy. You've done a far better job than any other Slayer in history at balancing a family and your sacred duty. I would like- to attempt that."

"You're a great balancer! You- you are like the best trained seal in the world of balancing-ness. You know- with all the balls- on your nose- oh God, just stick with you balance being a Watcher and a boyfriend really well. Mom is so happy with you." Buffy leaned out and took his hands.

"I'm glad you think so. I only want to love her and make her happy. And I don't want to waste time, when it is never certain how much we get. I don't intend to let chances pass me by any longer."

"Carpe that diem, Giles!" Buffy used one of the few Latin phrases she knew with a vigorous punch at the empty air.

"I am. I rather did." Here comes the tricky part. He steeled himself, and met her eyes calmly. "I asked your mother to be my wife."

It took a moment for the phrase to lock into understanding. "WHAT?" Buffy reared up, lost her balance, and toppled off the mats. She bounced up before Giles could extend his hand to help her. "What did you say?" She gasped.

"I asked your mother to marry me. Not- not any time soon." He took two cautious steps back as Buffy drew in quick breaths, looking at him with an expression that was a mixture of confusion, fear, and something like excitement. "Buffy? You- would you like some water? Or tea?"

"No. No. Giles! I don't get this! You've been dating for- not even a couple months. Or, well maybe okay, a couple months. Whatever. That's not- people don't just- you _proposed_?"

"I love her. I wanted her to know how much. I intend to stand by my offer, even if it upsets you, which I hope it won't. I promise- I won't steal her from you. I simply wanted to ask her when I realized it, not wait for another year, until it was 'socially acceptable'."

"You- what about stealing you from me? Not Mom. But you're my Watcher, Giles I need you! I know it sounds selfish, but I really do." She ranted.

"Oh, Dear, listen." Giles embraced her in a sudden swoop. "I have loved you like a father for years. I would like to make it somewhat official. You know I'll always be your Watcher, Buffy. And just think-" He tilted her watery eyes to his, "now you won't have to walk across town to burst in on me at ungodly hours. You can simply shout down the hallway."

"M-more of you would be a good thing." She sniffled. "Sorry. It's just- I know that was totally Buffy-centric, but I already kinda sorta lost one dad, and I don't want to lose the other one."

"Now you'll have me, more so than ever." He soothed. "Was that your only concern?"

"No! Sit down, Buster, you have so much explaining to do." She shoved him onto the stacked mats and faced him with hands on her hips.

Bloody hell... Courage was all well and good, but how many men had to ask for the _Slayer's_ approval before pursuing a woman to the altar? "Ask away." Giles said calmly, not giving into the mounting giddiness inside.

"Oh, Spike. Can I ask you a huge favor?" Joyce still wasn't used to hearing Spike's voice on the other end of the receiver when she called home. The brusque, " Oi, Summers' residence. Speak up, I can't hear you over Chelsea rematch" mellowed instantly.

"Are you alright, Mum, I mean, Joyce?"

She smiled and shook her head fondly. "Yes, but I wondered if you would do something for me? Aside from saving my life and defending me." They both laughed softly.

"Name it." He said sincerely.

"Is Dawn with you?"

"She is! Niiiiblet! Turn the sound down an' come speak to your mum!"

"No, no, Spike, I wanted you to drive her to the gallery. I need to talk with her. I know it's daylight, but-"

"But I've got my blackout goggles and my blacked out car. I'll-"

"Hi, Mom." Dawn bounced over to Spike's side and pulled the receiver unceremoniously out of his hand. He sighed and resisted the urge to swat her. "Yeah. Okay. Can I got hang at the Magic Box after? Yay! Love you. Be right there."

"Dawn, put Spike back on." Joyce cried as the teen prepared to hang up. Spike snatched the receiver back.

"I'm here, Joyce. Is anything the matter?"

"No. I just need to discuss something with her. With you too, but Dawn first." She sighed.

"You aren't havin' trouble with the insurance people are you? 'Cause chip or no chip, I can put the fear of-"

"I'm fine, the store will be fine. Thanks for delivering Dawn."

"Anytime."

Spike hung up and glared at Dawn, who was quickly brushing out her hair in the hall mirror. "You have terrible manners, you know that?"

"Same to you." She replied cheerfully. "Especially the whole 'Oi, I can't hear you 'cause I'm a big stupid soccer fan' thing."

"Football." He corrected waspishly. "An' I'm a soulless monster. What's your excuse?"

"Bratty teenager." She took his arm and beamed up at him.

"Don't do that." He hissed, but didn't tug his arm away. He fought the smile playing at the corners of his mouth until he could maintain a scowl.

"Why?" She said, just to irritate him.

"Because." He replied in mock exasperation. She only clung harder.

"Sorry, you've been made a part of the family. Just be glad I don't insist on full hugs." She released him so he could put on his coat, fish out his goggles and bundle himself up against the sun. "You run, I'll lock the door." She smiled.

"Make sure you do it right, don't want to come home to find beasties crawlin' through the house." He bolted, smiling widely as soon as he had his back to her. _I'm part of the family. Who'd a thunk it? _

Giles was finishing the more detailed version of his epiphany regarding love and wasting time. "Then when I realized that it was Angel and Spike, I was relieved, but for all we knew, it could have been truly evil vampires."

"Are you sure none of this was transference? Like- and please, please don't hate, me. I don't want to hurt you, or make you sad- but was it because you lost your chance with Ms. Calendar, so you decided to jump for it with Mom? Since Angelus- well, Angel last night, but since he was there both times..." She bit her lip. It hurt her to ask, but she had to know.

"Those things crossed my mind. You could say you're right, partially. But it is_ not_ transference. And by the way- I'm impressed that you know something of transference."

"Professor Walsh was way sick and twisted, but I did her assigned readings." Buffy smiled.

Giles pushed ahead, smiling as well. "Losing Jenny has definitely prompted me not to make the same mistakes with Joyce. Not to wait, and not to let small things, like the short amount of time we've been dating, interfere in my asking her. She can wait three days or three years. At least I asked."

Buffy watched about five years of heartbreak and tension leave his face as his eyes closed. Yes, he had asked. She knew what that was like, to finally admit you love someone, or finally take the risks you've been afraid of. He was such an important part of her life. He would never hurt her mother. Or any of them. Okay, _maybe_ Spike on a bad day, but he would've earned it so, no big.

"It's like that song. _I don't wanna wait for our lives to be over._" She tried to sing, but her voice was wobbling. "I get it, Giles." Buffy nodded, warmth filling her.

"Yes. J-just like that." Giles responded with a definite catch in his voice.

"So. I guess she said yes?" Buffy asked in clogged voice, wiping a her eyes as they moistened again. _So over estrogen right now_.

"Well, not immediately."

"When did you ask her, again?"

"Two days ago. The day the gallery was- well technically it was after midnight, so one day ago, although it seems more like two."

"When did she say yes, then?" Buffy cocked her head in puzzlement.

"Oh, as we were leaving, she said she wanted time to consider. Which was fine with me!" He hastened to reassure her. "Then this vampire leapt from behind the dumpster. After I had dealt with it, she said she was done considering. _That_ was when she said yes." He smiled fondly as he recalled.

"Vamps? All the way up at that end of town?" Buffy put her head in her hands. "Summer is supposed to be quiet, lots of daylight, not so much dark. Great. Now I'm going to have to patrol a way wider area."

"Yes, I was thinking, I've made some new circuits I'd like you to try." Giles took her elbow and began leading her to the front of the store, where he had maps out on the large round table in the back.

"Wait." Buffy pulled back. "Are we done?"

"No, not if you've more questions, certainly." He looked at her.

"Why didn't Mom tell me herself?" That was currently the main thought nagging her.

"I begged her to let me do it. She's telling Dawn. A compromise."

"Okay." She nodded once firmly, fixing him with a gimlet eyed stare. He swallowed once, suddenly resisting the urge to loosen his tie. Her face slowly broke into one of the biggest, brightest smiles he had ever seen. He hadn't seen her smile like that- well he couldn't remember_ ever_ seeing her smile like that. "Welcome to the family, Dad-man."

He found himself knocked backwards by the force of her hug, and lie on the floor, drawing pained breaths through his slightly dented ribs. "Thank you." He wheezed, beaming in return, sore though he was. "Perhaps you should save that type of hug for Spike? He's better equipped to handle it than us average mortals."

"Oh God!" Buffy bit her lip with a sudden giggle. "I wonder how Spike will react to your news. Who's going to tell him?"

"You are. Or Joyce. I plan to be far, far away when you do so."

"You aren't afraid of Spike are you?" She teased.

"Absolutely not!" He scoffed. "Only he has this odd son-like devotion for Joyce which I can't really explain..."

Buffy nodded silently, words tumbling in her brain but having no acceptable outlet. _He's so gentle with me, when I need him to be. You never need to be afraid of him once he loves you, or wants to be on your side. He's truly loyal. Even evil can experience loyalty, I guess. As for the son deal, what's to get? He had a mother once, too. He failed to save her life, he saved Mom's. There's redemption-y goodness in there._

"Do you think he'll be upset, or pleased?" Giles asked cautiously.

"He'll rant and rave for a minute, then call you a lucky bastard and say you don't deserve her. Then he'll shut up about it." She grinned.

"I hardly think-"

"Trust me, Giles. I know him."

"I know something's up." Dawn sashayed around the mostly recovered gallery before meeting up with her mother in the back room.

"Yes, something is up." Her mother hugged her. "Spike, do you want to stay?"

"Uh, think the Slayer's round the Magic Box?" He kept his voice casual, as if he didn't care one way or the other if he ever saw her again.

"She is, Rupert told me she was spending the afternoon there, training."

"Might go along and spectate." He looked at the other two members of the strange "family" he found himself ensconced in. "But I can wait, if you wanna tag along, Bit."

"You go ahead, Spike. I'll have Xander take a break and walk her up when we're done talking, or she can stay here and help her dear old mom." Joyce stroked Dawn's hair. "Oh, and if you see Rupert, you can tell him it's safe to spread the word."

"Right. Message received an' not bally understood, but I'll follow the orders." He waved to Joyce and Dawn, inclined his head with savage civility towards Xander and flew out into the afternoon sun, disappearing down a dark alley almost instantly.

"Okay. What's the big news?" Dawn perched on a swivel chair, stealing a day old doughnut and looking hopefully at her mom.

"Sweetie, I need to tell you something." Joyce hadn't been sure how to do this. She figured she'd never again have the chance to date seriously, let alone marry, so breaking the news of an impending stepfather left her floundering. Dawn had been through so much. What would be the gentlest, most loving, and reassuring way to explain?

"So tell me. You're not sick again, are you?" Dawn's eyes widened and her voice deepened in panic.

"No! No, Baby, this is a really wonderful thing."

"We won the lottery and you're buying a mansion with a pool and way hot cabana boys?"

"When did you become such a teenager?" Joyce laughed. "What happened to ponies?"

"Ponies are good! With hot cowboys?"

"You're not dating until you're eighteen now, you realize that, don't you?" They both giggled. "It has to do with men. _A_ man. Um. Giles."

"You're not breaking up -oh wait. You said it was good. Okay, sorry, freaking is gone." Dawn leaned forward, powdered sugar on her lips, and waited expectantly.

"Dawnie, no one can ever replace your father, but-"

"Are you kidding? A talented answering machine could replace my father."

"Dawn!"

"Mom, I've never even met him. Not for real. And LA isn't so far away. Why doesn't he come up for visits? Why doesn't he email me? Why didn't he talk to me on the phone more than once in the last year? Shouldn't he have every other weekend custody visits, or at least once a month?" Dawn was on her feet, and her voice was shaking with anger she had only recently begun to feel, ever since Giles started to hang out with her mom like a boyfriend. Show her what it might be like to have a father figure. "My father? Mom, I've never actually seen his face. Held his hand. Are you sure he even remembers me? What if the monks that made me up didn't build me in his mind? What if they took a look at Buffy's life and went 'Okay, no dad there, just give Hank Summers some basic back up files in case he ever gets off his ass and cares about his real daughter, then he'll remember he has this fake one, too."

"Dawn!" Joyce knew that was an inadequate response and that she was also stupidly stuck on the fact that her daughter had used the word "ass" in a cursing fashion. "Language. And- and I'm sorry, Sweetie. You have every right to be mad at him and point out what his faults are. But he loves you. Of course he knows you and he has all the same memories I do. You're our little Pumpkin Belly, you're the baby."

"It's not real." Dawn whispered.

"It is to me." Joyce wrapped her in a tight hug, wishing she could make it real, show Dawn it meant everything to her, real or imagined. "Don't blame this on- on lack of memories, or how you got here. Sometimes people lose sight of priorities."

"Like family?" She sniffled in a harsh whisper.

"Sometimes even that." Joyce rocked her slowly back and forth, foot to foot. "I don't want you to hate your father, or disrespect him. But he lost sight of the real priorities a long, long time ago."

"Figured that out now. He didn't even send a card when you were in the hospital. Either time. Spike's a dead, soulless vampire, and he stood outside your room for hours to make sure you were safe. Even Riley, who's a total loser, sat with us for hours while you were in surgery. The guy who married you didn't even bother to have his secretary send a fruit basket."

Joyce swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. It was about not wasting the rest of her life. That meant not regretting what you lost and couldn't fix, and doing things right the second time. Finding a man who had admired her from a distance for quite awhile, and then had gone out of his way to make both her fun-loving side and her responsible, careworn side feel happy and loved again. Someone who had always put her children first- even before her. "I'm sorry to say you're right, Honey. Your dad hasn't done very well. He hasn't been there for any of us."

"Giles has." Dawn nudged her mother along. She really, really wanted Giles to stay off the pile of boyfriend rejects. So what if he was totally stuffy and talked in way too many words? He was always there, and you could tell he loved you, in a nice, button-down, 'God, I'm so repressed' way. "He's always around. And he reeeeally likes you. I mean, I know you spend the night there, so you're serious, but-"

"Rupert and I are in love." Joyce interrupted with a smile. Maybe this conversation was making a u-turn from the road to hell it had gotten on.

"That's good, Mom." Dawn beamed. "Really. I promise not to do one of those teen 'my mom's dating' fits, ever. I like him. I love him, too, in a weird, uncle-y way. Kind of like a dad, except more fun, and way cooler, with the swords, and the spells and the tattoo..."

"He can be pretty cool." She laughed softly. "But he's also very caring and I don't think he would make some of the bad decisions your father made." She sucked in a deep breath. "Dawn, life around here can be dangerous." She ignored the snort and eye roll her child emitted. "It's important to realize what matters before it's too late. Ru- Sorry, Giles, and I do love each other. He would like it if-one day- maybe not for years- we were married. I agree with him."

Dawn's shrieking squeal caused Joyce to stagger back and Xander to race over, scattering bits of metallic doorframe as he ran. "What is it? Holy crap, what happened?" He demanded frantically.

"This is the bestest news ever! I love you guys!" Dawn gave her mother a strangling hug, and then one for Xander just because he was in range.

"Wow! Great! Whatever it is...one of you ladies wanna tell me why I just almost wet myself?" Xander demanded, prying Dawn off.

"Hullo, Rupert." Spike was sitting beside Buffy, working on routes for patrol. When he'd arrived a few minutes ago, Giles and Anya had both been assisting customers. Now the tall, graying man was coming over to acknowledge his presence. Under the table, Spike roughly goosed the lycra clad crotch of his lover and watched her choke down a moan. She shot him a poisonous glare, and he decided he'd have to try that game some more. Her fingers tightened on his in a painful grip, and he bit back a smile. "Just saw your bird."

"Don't call Joyce that." He huffed.

"I'm not disrespectin' Joyce!" Spike's eyes flashed yellow quickly.

Oh, dear Lord. He really was in a touchy mood about her. "Of course not." He placated.

"Yeah, well..." He sullenly crossed his arms. Under the table he felt two slim fingers tracing up and down his zipper. Hm. Slayer's tryin' to cheer me up, or get a bit of payback. Either way, most appreciated. "She told me to pass you a message. You can start spreading the news, whatever that means in this case."

"Oh? Oh- sh-she's talked to Dawn then, has she?" He fumbled with his glasses, blushing.

"In the process when I left." Spike's hand trailed casually down Buffy's thigh, squeezing as he went, making his touch alternate between soft and firm. He felt her legs press together slightly and chortled inside. Like squeezing those gorgeous muscles was gonna help after she knew the alternative an' he was here to give it to her.

"Good. Yes. Good news. Buffy?" Giles gave her a pleading stare.

"What is it, Giles?" She asked sweetly.

"Do you and Spike want to train for a bit?"

Both of them blinked. "I just did!" Buffy protested.

"An' get beat to a pulp?" Spike cried. "You know I can't land a blow without interference from zap-central." He gestured to his head.

Buffy warmed to the idea almost immediately. "You can do plenty without landing punches. Oh- and- and sparring! Maybe if there's no desire to hurt, it doesn't fire?" She gave him a significant look. All the times he'd pulled her or pushed her roughly in their lovemaking, with only a desire to please her or lover her, there had never been a single shock. Likewise, biting in bed had never triggered it.

"We can go try." He shrugged. He considered taking his duster off, but his little vixen had been busy while she spoke, massaging him to hardness and keeping him trapped in his jeans. He pulled the coat around him, hands pulling forward, hiding the evidence. "I'm game if you are."

"This'll be fun." She grinned and winked.

"Just a tic. The news? What's going on?" Spike fixed Giles with an eerie, unblinking blue gaze.

"Buffy will tell you the gist of my announcement. If you have any questions after, you can ask me." He fled to the safety of a trio of customers who had just arrived.

"Announcement?" Spike allowed himself to be led to the training room. Buffy didn't hold his hand, rather tugged on his sleeve. _Because we're not so much on the cuddles... unless we sneak 'em._ He grinned and she grinned back.

"Hand to hand?"

"Oh, yeah, Baby." He purred.

"Stop!" She had to laugh. Her eyes gave a sudden sparkle. "I missed you."

"I've only been out of your sight for half a day."

"But I missed you." She pouted.

"Damn that little lip." He took off his duster and pressed into her. "See what you do to me?"

She leaned in and kissed him back. She noticed that for the first time ever, neither of them checked to see if anyone was watching. She felt a reckless tingle running through her. "If Giles wasn't right outside this door, I'd totally get you on the mat- and I'm not talking about pinning you."

"Bloody hell." He winced as the metal of his zipper suddenly dug into his erection. "You're not helpin' me get to a suitable sparrin' position, Luv."

"You're right. And I still have to tell you the big news."

"Now it's _big_ news?" Spike took out a cigarette and brought it to his lips, figuring that the sparring would have to wait until he heard the Buffy version of Giles' news. Prolly somethin' the old man could say in ten words or less, but would take Buffy many high-pitched detours to get through.

His hand never made it back to his pocket for the lighter. "Well, it kind of involves Mom and Giles. You know how they've been dating?"

"Yeah..." The cigarette paused on its journey between hand and mouth, still unlit.

"They're kind of getting married."

"Excuse me?" Spike's shoulders and arms went back in shock.

"He asked her. She said yes. There was this whole big- Spike? Spike!" Buffy watched him blur through the door back to the shop.

Spike slammed his hands palm down on the glass counter, squarely in front of Giles, blocking the path of an elderly woman. "Did you get her up the spout? Is that why? So fast?"

"Anya, help Mrs. Lewis, will you?" Giles glared at Spike and turned apologetically to his customer.

"May I take your money?" Anya smiled cheerily.

Giles hustled around the counter and hissed. "Joyce is of an age-"

"To be courted in a gentlemanly way, and not like some young racehorse chasing a filly!" Spike realized his William voice, still an angry voice, but William's, had poured forth. Both of them appeared taken aback. "Oh, bollocks."

"Thank God." Giles sighed, and both of them shared a fleeting, rueful smile. "I'm not pressuring this along, I merely- you were the one who said I'd better get on with it!"

"The courtin'! Not the marrying! You can't rush these things!" He put his head in his hands suddenly. "Lord, look what she'd done to me..."

"She's very like your mother, isn't she?" Giles had a moment of astute insight.

Spike bit his lip and winced in frustration. He didn't talk about his mum to anyone but Buffy, and sometimes Joyce. Maybe a few times to Bit. "Look, I know it isn't any of my damn business, but I'm right fond of all three of those girls. An' it's not just Joyce I worry for. What about Bit? She's never had a proper father. Why do you think she hugs me? I'm a monster, an' she's all but kissin' me goodnight an' callin' me big brother. She's that in need of a man about the place. An' Hank Summers is a right bastard an' Buffy gets burned by-" Spike stopped talking when a hard smack on the back of his head interrupted him.

"Didn't hear me come in?" Buffy smiled sweetly.

"No, he was too busy yelling." Giles said calmly.

"I'm not sayin' you can't look after yourself, or your family, Slayer." Spike snarled. "Jus' makin' it clear to the Librarian that your family deserves the best treatment, from a real stand-up guy." _Which I'm not. So how can I judge? _"I'm sure everything is aces, Watcher. Joyce isn't a stupid woman. She accepted you, an' looks like Buffy does. I know Bit will."

"You have my most solemn vow that I will be the epitome of a good husband to Joyce. And as much of a father, o-or a friend, as the girls want." Giles found himself suddenly understanding why Joyce was so at ease with Spike. Why Dawn had no fear of him. Why Buffy allowed him in her heart. "You can always register your objections if you see me doing something wrong."

"I bloody will." Spike grumbled.

"I didn't want to waste the rest of my life, Spike. Nor Joyce's. No one knows how soon the curtain comes down on this performance."

"Lovely. Soddin' metaphor." The grumbling increased. He felt Buffy's shoulder brush his, her arm falling past his, fingertips just grazing his own. "You got a point." He gave a manly sniff and put his hands in his belt loops. " You don't deserve her, you lucky bastard. But you're the closest to it. You'll be making them happy, or I'll find a way around this chip, Rupert..."

"Clearly." Giles nodded, too pleased with the way it was going to mind being "threatened".

"You won't need to. I got dibs." Buffy shot him a look of pure ice, but it melted quickly.

"Stepdaddyyyyy!" Dawn barreled into the store, running headlong, purposely going smack into Giles. For the second time in an hour he started to topple backwards. Spike reflexively reached out and yanked him upright.

"Oh good Lord..." Giles groaned, but smiled. "Can we please not call me that? Unless you very, very much want to?"

"Stepdaddy? I'm sorry- I should be informed if my boss is getting married!" Anya slammed the register shut and marched past Xander who had accompanied Dawn to the store. "Especially if the marriage includes children and nepotism might be used in deciding who gets hired or fired."

"You're not being fired."

"I'm not being hired. Well, maybe an after school job?"

"I did hear the correctly, she called you 'stepdaddy' inferring you're marrying Joyce?" Anya pressed.

Spike slowly backed away, leaving Giles surrounded by noisy questions and congratulations. He headed back to the training room, feeling pleased for both participants in the event, but also feeling kind of foolish. Who would have guessed he'd get so protective of three little snacks on legs?

"I heard what you said." Buffy came up behind him. "Just so you know, Dawn totally doesn't think you're a monster. I've tried to tell her, but she's not so bright."

He warmed at her praise, and accepted it, trusting her as he did. "Wonder where she picked that up from? You say those monks made her straight outta bits of you?" He goaded.

"It is _so_ on." Buffy put her fists up and started to circle.

"Gonna have you flat on your back... do it at home, too, if you're good." He teased.

"You wish! I'm going to have you hurting in places you didn't know you had!"

"Always gettin' my hopes up. But I gotta get you for slappin' the back of my head like that, 'cause it bloody hurt."

They continued verbal sparring and eventually managed to get in some actual, almost no-contact physical sparring underway. "I freaked too, just so you know." Buffy consoled at one point, landing a light touch on his shoulder.

"You've a right to." He touched his foot to her knee. "Slayer, this is bloody frustratin'. Would be so much better if I could just kick your knee caps out, good an' proper."

"Tell me about it. Well-" She grunted and managed to duck his arm, "we can work it off later."

"Ooh, goody. Have anything special in mind?"

"Not really. We have a family dinner. Giles is coming. Just the five of us."

"Oh-" Spike began to complain, which allowed Buffy to shove him down, and land atop him. "Dammit."

"I win." She whispered.

"Bloody hell." She tried to get off, and he held her fast. "Don't go for a bit."

"I still need you. Just so you know. And family dinner- no big. Giles has been over way much lately."

"Luv, the thing is, Giles an' I don't mix so well..." Happy for Joyce as he was, there was no way things wouldn't change drastically with a husband in the mix. Not as bad as it might have been. Things would be tense, but they could manage it. He'd gotten attached to the blonde smiling down at him, and was willing to go through a lot for her.

"I know." She blushed. "Can I just tell you one thing?"

"I'm a captive audience." He stared up at her.

"No one is making me choose between them and you- but if I had to-"

"Say no more, Luv. They need you, an' I can look after myself."

"I'd pick you." She whispered, amazed with how sure she felt. "Oh, in a life or death situation- them every time."

"Obviously. You can't leave Joyce and the Little Bit to fend for themselves. I'm pretty hard to take out." He supported that, and in this very room, they'd lived it out while facing down Glory. He'd shielded Dawn, she'd taken Joyce. They spared each other a look, but nothing more.

"But if it were like a 'you can live with us, or live with Spike' thing I'd have to go with you. I don't think I can function without my other half."

"You make me happy, Buffy." He reached up at held her face in his palms, feeling confidence and relaxation coursing through him.

"I know." She leaned down and kissed him once.

"Just one kiss? That seems a little stingy, Rupert Giles." Joyce smiled up at the newly affianced man who had come to visit her in the gallery.

"Can you close up?"

"Now? It's-" She read the surprise bursting in his eyes, and she sighed. "Well, they're finally finished repairing the door and window, and the one display case. The new display stands are ordered. I guess I'm not too busy to close a little early."

"I wanted to stop by my place before dinner."

"Which I still have to cook, so we need to hurry."

"It won't take long." He smiled mysteriously.

In a few moments, Joyce had followed Giles to his apartment. "You didn't bring me here for naughty purposes, did you?" She giggled.

"Not this time. Sadly." He nonchalantly closed the door, and headed to the kitchen. "I wanted to pick up some sparkling cider for dinner. I've got a few bottles."

"Thanks to my meds?" She called with a wry grin.

"I thought we'd have a drink before we left. Would you pop the phonograph on, Heart?"

"Is there anything you want me to play?"

"Whatever's on." Giles emerged with the cider in an ice bucket and two champagne flutes on a tray.

"Oh- what's going on?" Joyce flushed, knowing of course, what it must be.

"A man can't have a drink with his lovely fiancée?"

"Rupert." She dragged his name out suspiciously.

"Put on the record, Joycie."

Joyce huffed and turned to the old fashioned record player, and noted that "their" album was in place. Cream. She switched it on, and reached for the button to set the needle- only to see the simple solitaire diamond tied to the arm with a white satin bow. "Rupert!"

"Do you like it?" He was suddenly right behind her, undoing the ribbon with her, guiding her now shaking fingers.

"It's lovely. So lovely, Rupert..." She turned and kissed him, holding the ring in her palm. He plucked it out of her hand and took her left hand firmly in his own.

"Will you marry me?"

"I will." She beamed and let him place it on her finger.

"Sure now?" He asked with a Ripperish wink.

"Oh, yes. I'm sure."

"I'm sure I'm going to sleep until noon. Noon of September first." Buffy groaned as she and Spike trudged up the stairs.

"We jus' need to sleep more durin' the day. Maybe split up on the sweeps, now that we have to take on the posh part of the business district now."

"We walked for like three hours. How many did we get?"

"Four. An' that mugger."

"What mugger would dare be out at night in this town?"

"Stupid ones. Must be why so many fledges are dumb here." Spike followed her unthinkingly into the bathroom. "Where's the floss? That rhubarb pie was lovely, but so sticky."

"Mom hasn't bought one home in years. She should get engaged more often." Buffy stepped into the shower.

"Don't joke. Break poor old Ripper's heart."

"You care, don't you?"

"Tell anyone an' I'm never ravishin' you again." He stripped off and stepped in behind her. They leaned against one another, sleepy eyed and blinking in the harsh light.

"I thought you'd be trying to ravish me right now." She yawned.

"Will do. Not in here though. Oh fuckin' hell." Spike seemed to come awake. "I never do this with you- not when they're home."

"Shh. It's okay. No one will mind. As long as we don't actually do anything in here where they might need to get in at any moment." She also seemed to wake up more fully. "You heard that right, what Mom said? About how you were not even to _consider_ moving out? That you were staying if I was staying?"

"I did. An' I saw Rupert down that cider like it was straight Scotch."

"It'll be okay." She encouraged. He nodded, stepping out with a swift kiss, collecting their clothes and wrapping a towel around his waist. He prayed to all the gods who might listen to vamps that this would not be one of the rare occasions where he bumped into Joyce or Dawn in the hallway. Someone was listening, he made it safely to their door.

He slipped like a shadow into their room, and collapsed onto their burgundy sheets. In moments he was joined by a wet, shivering slayer. "You're like an ice cube." She complained, but still snuggled up against him.

"You know you like it, Pet." He pressed his open mouth slowly along her neck and shoulders, collecting water droplets from her delectable flesh. Her nipples hardened into tight, painfully high peaks and he quickly engulfed them, soothing them down- at least that's what he was trying to do.

She arched and gasped. "Music."

"I don't want to move." He whined. "Finally got my treat." His palm skimmed down her ribs and belly, until he lightly, gently touched her soft nether lips. "You had a big day, huh, Luv?"

"Not so big. It was fast. But-" She moaned and forced herself up, popping the CD player on, ignoring his protests. "I kind of get it. Why they want to hurry. It reminded me of that song."

"Be more specific. I hate nearly all the songs you know." He rolled her back to him, and placed himself on top. For a moment her explanation derailed for the pleasures of kissing and stroking, making good all the not-so-idle threats made during training.

"Nothing could be bad as this. What is this, the Ramones?"

"Good girl, Luv!" Spike hugged her hard and enthusiastically. "That _is_ the Ramones. You're starting to recognize decent music!"

"Why is it on? It's my music's turn tonight."

"You pushed the button, it played whatever was in." He resumed his exploration of her breasts with his skillfully roving tongue.

"Unnhhh." She groaned in satisfaction. "You ever heard the song, about not waiting until life is over?"

"_Enter Sandman_?" He suggested. Wasn't that about someone dying? Or was it sleeping? Or both?

"No! It's a girl singer, it's pretty." Buffy clung to him tightly when he entered, and they both took a minute to do nothing but gasp and eye gaze.

"Always so good." He finally whispered in her ear, a predatory note in his smoky voice.

"So good." She agreed. Softly, she was humming while their heads fought and lolled, lips always seeking and dueling.

"You're hummin'." He finally chuckled.

"I am not!"

"You are." He countered. "What's the song? I promise I won't hate it- well, I won't _say_ I hate it, if you jus' sing it or tell me about it. But I can't concentrate on you while there's hummin' in my ear.

Buffy blushed. "I don't sing."

"No you prolly don't. But- I won't laugh." He assured in such a sweet, simple manner, that she buckled and gave in.

"It's the chorus only. That's all I can remember. It's um it's-" she stopped trying to explain and sang in a soft quavery whisper.

"_I don't want to wait_

_For our lives to be over_

_I want to know right now_

_What will it be_

_I don't want to wait_

_For our lives to be over_

_Will it be yes or will it be sorry"_

Spike kissed her with gentleness usually reserved for bad days, or especially significant ones. "Pretty, Pet."

"See? It's like them. If they keep waiting- well, you never know. But they don't want to wake up one morning and realize it all went away." She stroked his chin. "I get that. Do you?"

"Yeah. I do get it." A lot remained unsaid, hanging in the air. They began moving together, slowly and deliberately, building up the pace, but not panting or breaking a sweat because of their supernatural strength and stamina.

"Spike?" She caved first.

"I know, Luv."_ I do know. We should be out seizin' the day. But neither of us can quite manage it, not as we are, who we are, what we do._

"It'd be so nice. You and me." She murmured, eyes closing, painful ecstasy on her face.

"Buffy- our lives are already over. Were. You an' me already have it mapped out." He wouldn't lie to her.

"I know." _He's dead. I'm a Slayer. I died once, and I'll die soon. Maybe. But he'll go with me. _

"But you _do_ know what it will be. You know exactly what your life'll be." He interrupted her musings, forehead pressing to hers.

"It'll be you and me." Her smile suddenly broke through.

"Yes. Life over or not. We're together. That's at least somethin' to be sure of."

To Be Continued...


	7. Chapter 7

If You're Sure

By Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life._

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes..._

_Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. _

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, jmoran319, Methuselah Honeysuckle, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, and McPastey_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part VII

_About three weeks before the wedding..._

Willow, Tara, and Buffy sat around a table at the Bronze, slowly sipping on non-alcoholic, sugary drinks. "We haven't done this in forever." Buffy sighed.

"I missed girls only time." Willow agreed.

"Y-you're sure you don't mind that I-" Tara's inquiry was cut off by vigorous denials.

"You might be Willow's girlfriend, but you're still one of my best friends!" Buffy squeezed her hand. Then her face fell slightly. "I'm not messing up date night for you guys, am I? It was her turn to be reassured vehemently.

"Why doesn't Spike ever come with us to the Bronze?" Willow asked, very hesitantly. Spike and Buffy's relationship had long ago been accepted- even Spike himself had been accepted, at least by her and Tara, but it still puzzled her. Neither of the blondes ever really talked about their relationship. Not to them, anyway.

"He does sometimes." Buffy pointed out. He dropped in with her, usually had a drink, bought her one, and then left. If they stayed together, it was because they had vamps looking for dinner somewhere on the dance floor or the alley in back.

"But, not to just- hang."

"I didn't think you guys would want to just 'hang' with Spike." She laughed.

"That's not our choice. He's your partner, we would make him welcome." Tara said seriously, clearly recalling how the Scoobies had done their best to welcome her.

"I'll tell him next time. But he still might not come- just to 'hang'. He has to earn his keep." She rolled her eyes. "I kinda tried to point out that blood from the butcher's is dirt cheap, and he's seriously not taking up any resources, but he's stubborn."

"So-he got a job?" Willow couldn't imagine any job where Spike wouldn't be automatically fired for sheer snarkiness.

"No. He drops into these seedy places, Willy's and some bars at the wharf, and plays poker. He doesn't make tons, but enough for gas in the car, blood, cigarettes- which I so want him to quit smoking- and some other things." She blushed. "Other things" included coffee for her mom, brownies for her and Dawn, little bottles of lubricant and lotion that she'd find in their bedside table. Small, but appreciated stuff. Sweet stuff.

"You're blushing!" Willow lit up. "You- you really like him!"

Buffy blinked. "You're just now getting that?"

"No! But..." She trailed off.

Tara attempted to explain. "We know you two have feelings for each other. It's just not exactly a - relationship we got to see forming. Exactly." She fiddled with her straw.

"Like, it wasn't 'look, Spike and Buffy hung out together last week', 'oh, Spike and Buffy went to the movies', 'Buffy and Spike spent the night together'. It was more like 'Spike and Buffy stopped actively trying to kill each other, Spike and Buffy are working together, Spike and Buffy are sharing a bedroom'. Kinda- weirded us out, but- but not in a bad way, or a judge-y way!" Willow added.

"There was-is- a lot you didn't see. And a lot I really don't want to talk about. It's complicated and sometimes- it's just better working it out with your partner than with everyone else."_ I don't need your opinions. I don't care if it doesn't work out in anyone's mind but mine. I need him, I got him._

"I hear that." Willow took Tara's hand. They had come to all of their own conclusions about their relationship privately, and then informed their friends. "I'm happy to know there's more than just smoochies."

Buffy grinned, relaxing. "Way more than smoochies. But we're both a little- we don't talk about it to other people. I think it weirded us out, too. At first. But when you're in love-"

"In love?" Willow almost bounced out of her seat. "In love? In love-_in love_?" Her eyes lit up.

"Honey, stop, you're making Buffy self-conscious."

"You never hold hands or anything, or go out on dates. I figured you just liked each other on a comfortable, physical level."

Buffy's eyes twinkled in a way that Willow hadn't seen since- well, ever. It was a purely happy gleam, no guilt, no worry. "He's like my other half, Will. Thanks for support, Tara. You don't have to worry."

"Is Spike watching Dawn?" Giles took Joyce's hand as they exited the theater.

"She's at Janice's. Spike is out somewhere, Buffy was going to have a girls' night."

"And Anya and Xander have a date. All is well with the world."

"At least is all is quiet." Joyce amended with a sigh. "Between Dawn and Anya, I feel like I'm trapped in wedding world. I don't think either of them will leave us alone until we tell them we have a date."

"I quite understand." Giles had been on the receiving end of many wedding related questions and much advice from his erstwhile employee. "I tried to tell her things take time to plan."

"And it all depends on how complicated you want it to be."

"Anya has family- well- guests, flying in from other dimensions. I'm planning to ask some of my neighbors and that's it."

"Rupert, what about your family? The people you work with? I understand you might not be on the best terms with them since they fired you and just rehired you a few months ago but-"

"But the less the Council knows about us the better, Heart." Giles dropped his voice. "They fired me for having a 'father's love' for Buffy. Can you imagine what the fallout will be like once they hear I am, in some capacity, her legal relative?" He shook his head and stated firmly, "I've no family, I've only got a few friends from my Ripper days and those annoyances on the Council. You can plan on the groom's side of the church being relatively empty."

"A church! We can't get married in a church, Spike won't be able to attend."

"That leaves out the daylight hours as well." Giles began to envision the ceremony. An evening wedding, a warm summer night, perhaps in a rose garden. Or it needn't be in the summer at all, California had lovely, warm nights in every season.

"What was that, Honey?"

"Oh, was I mumbling?" He hadn't intended for her to overhear his thoughts.

"As you often do." She smiled indulgently. "A summer wedding in the garden?"

"Just a thought. Obviously, not this summer."

"Obviously."

"You_ will _have the wedding of your dreams." Giles promised, running a hand over her back, pulling her against his side.

"I did." She muttered softly, a faraway note in her voice.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you have." Giles' hand pulled away slowly. _Of course. This is all old hat to her. Even the ring, she said she didn't need one, she already had one once. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten it..._

"I had a beautiful wedding, but a crappy marriage. I mean, not all of it was bad, but- so much of it was..." She snatched his hand back. "Rupert- I'm not saying _this_ wedding won't be the wedding of my dreams, I'm saying I already had the big, elaborate ceremony. A perfect dress, a perfect hairdo..." She made a hiss of frustration. "It didn't help us stay together."

"I won't leave you, Luv. You understand that?" His jaw was tightening, voice lowering.

"Yes, I _do_ understand that." She turned to face him, palms on his cheeks. "This will be a dream wedding, no matter what arrangements we make. Because I'm older and wiser, and picking the best man for the job."

"Damn straight." His tension melted and he smiled.

"Inside straight." Spike laid his cards down with a flourish and tapped ash on the scarred wooden table top.

"Dammit. Pay the vamp."

"Thank you so much- oi, no kittens! I set the terms for this round, an' it was cash, blood, or valuables." Spike pulled the pot of crumpled bills in front of him.

"Next hand is kittens." Clem, a demon who Spike tolerated better than most, set the terms for the next hand, and Spike slid back from the table. He walked to the bar, got himself a glass of blood and a whiskey chaser, then walked back to observe. It was harder to read demons than humans, so he counted on these breaks to study his future opponents. Learn their tics and giveaways, when they were bluffing and when they had somethin' worth folding for.

It was during this break that he noticed one of the demons had something of interest in the midst of his stack of soiled banknotes. "Hey. Green an' icky. Lemme see that." Spike gestured to a glint of gold.

"This? Oh, this is very valuable." Said the green demon, who liked to be called "Slimer" after a movie character he resembled, and because it was far easier to say than his demonic name. "It's a beaut." He held up the ring to the light. "Ruby."

"Where'd you get it?" Spike looked at the large, dark red stone, set in a highly filagreed gold band. It was obviously old, and in need of a good cleaning as it had black spots of tarnish around the stone.

"Ummm. Off of someone I- borrowed?"

Spike rolled his eyes. His reputation as a demon killer was barely tolerated- except that he was strong enough to kill almost anyone who pointed it out. "Whatever. Borrowed, eaten- you're lucky I'm here to play an' nothin' else." He backed off, returning to the corner, keeping his eyes fixed on the piece.

His mother had something like it. Not quite the same, but close. Hers had been quite bright, brilliant compared to this one. But polished up, this one would look a treat.

_Did Dru take the ring? Did the police find it? I wonder if the police were ever called? Maybe one of the maids took it the next day, pinched everything of value, and made it look like a robbery, then called the police. Or maybe no one ever looked at the house again and all of it went to rot. You'll never know, coward, 'cause you never went back._

He'd fled the house soon after what happened to his mother. He took money, he took silver, he hadn't taken anything of hers. It was too horrible of a reminder. Of course, now he wished he'd taken something- _anything_- to remind himself of the only relative he'd had for almost his entire adult life, and the only person until Buffy that he felt really loved him back as deeply as he'd loved her.

So- he set his sights on the ring. For a moment he toyed with the idea that an old fashioned ring should go to Joyce, for all she reminded him of his mum. On the other hand, he'd never given Buffy anything more than a headache and mind-numbin' orgasms. And if his mother were alive, he imagined she'd quite like Buffy. A gentle smile played around his lips, but he erased it immediately when the next round began.

"I'm in." He glared down a less potent looking vamp and muscled into a seat. "Cash an' valuables?"

"No blood?" Clem blinked his red eyes in confusion.

"Not this hand, if no one minds?" Spike's look made sure no one minded at all.

He played dirty, cheating cunningly with ruthless disregard for his own safety, not caring if he brassed off every other player in the room, as long as Slimer stayed at the table. And Slimer did, because Spike made the stakes so high in the favor of that ring.

"Spike- man, it's not even a ruby. It's a garnet." Clem hissed as Spike and Slimer remained the last two at the table.

"It is not!" The oozing green being countered.

"I don't care." Spike snarled.

"It isn't worth what you're betting." Clem insisted in a more vehement hiss. Spike might be a complete species traitor, but he told a good story and he didn't kill you unless he caught you hurting someone or you threatened him...or pissed him off a _lot._

"I don't care." Spike vamped and remained in game face. "I happen to like the bloody thing. Now- call, or raise, but get on with it."

After a minute of hesitation, Slimer tossed the ring into the center. "Raise."

Spike looked at his cards and smiled, briefly, a carefully crafted smile, just long enough to appear, and vanish, as though he hadn't meant to give himself away. "Hmmm. Steep." He pushed the majority of his remaining stash forward.

_Smug bastard_, Slimer glowered. Spike never lost his look of cool indifference, but he had. And he was after that ring. With Spike, once he latched onto something, he got it, or he busted your head getting it. The ring wasn't really worth much at all, value wise or sentiment wise, and he refused to bet any more. He certainly refused to take the risk and win, then get beat up on the way out all for the sake of a battered piece of tin. "Fold." He grumbled and flattened his cards with a heavy sigh.

"Thanks very much. An' that's me gone, gents." Spike collected the spoils and stood rapidly. He placed his own cards face down and bowed his way from the room.

"Hey- what'd you have?" One spectator demanded.

"You don't wanna know. Don't torture yourself, mate." Spike waved as he exited.

As soon as he was gone a horned, cloven hoofed demon flipped his hand face up. A pair. A single pair.

"Wow. He's good." Clem murmured appreciatively.

"I'm gonna kill that guy." Slimer rumbled, standing with his fists clenched.

"You don't wanna do that, man." A young male vampire took Spike's vacant seat. "You don't even want to say it. He runs with a tough crowd."

"I hear he consorts with humans." An elderly, bearded male demon mentioned.

"Infidel." Spoke up a Hellion.

"He fights alongside the Slayer!"

"Yeah... and _she_ fights alongside of _him_." Clem pointed out in a smug tone. The room fell silent as the implication hung in the air. "This round kittens and blood?"

Spike whistled as he patrolled. He didn't know when he'd ever give his girl the ring, but at least he had one, and someday he'd find the right time, tell her about his mum's ring, and let her have it. Maybe she'd wear it on special occasions. Maybe someday they'd even have special occasions of their own. Wrapped in rosy thoughts, he twirled the ring on his finger and swaggered off into the night.

"So the guest list would be very small. All we would need is the minister, caterer, flowers, and rings. And a cake." Joyce mused, leaning back against Rupert's chest.

"Should I be making a list?" He yawned sleepily.

"No." She giggled. "I think we have a very clear idea. A small, garden ceremony in the summer, with an hors d'oeurvres reception."

"Sounds lovely." Rupert sighed, caressing the soft form in front of him. "You don't mind a small, simple wedding?"

"I welcome the idea." She laughed. "There's so many loose ends in our lives. For one thing- I can't keep spending the night, Rupert. Not as much as I have been, anyway. Spike and Buffy are patrolling most nights, and when their friends aren't with them, we can't always ask them to watch Dawn. We certainly can't ask them to stay until two or three in the morning, waiting until Spike and Buffy get home."

"That will change in the autumn, Buffy will be in her junior year, she won't be able to do so many patrols. Not such late ones, certainly. We'll have to pick up the slack. Spike and I. The others perhaps."

"You patrol?"

"I do." Giles smiled into her worried eyes. "Buffy can handle most things on her own, but I _am_ her Watcher. I try to assist when I can. For big battles, certainly."

"This isn't going to go away, is it?" Joyce whispered, eyes shutting with a pained expression.

"No." Giles pressed his lips to her brow. "I'm sorry, it isn't."

"It seemed like we had a little break." Her laugh was strained, and her fingers dug into the strong arms that encircled her.

"Summer is quieter. Typically." Feelings of doubt were assailing him. When they had become lovers, and then engaged, he had thought the reasoning was made very clear, and mutually understood. They were in love, but they also weren't wasting time, not because things were better, but because things could always take a turn for the worse. There were no guarantees. "Joyce- I thought you understood. The reason we-"

"Oh, Honey. I know the reasons. I just don't like all of them." Joyce pulled him down, snuggling into the rumpled bed again. "So this year- while we're waiting, we can have another Glory, or another Angelus, another Faith incident..."

"Hopefully not, Luv, but there usually is at least one major battle a year. Or at least enough little ones to keep us busy. Things are easier with Spike helping, I admit."

"Yes, I know. But- all this back and forth between houses." Joyce left the unspoken invitation in the air.

"Joyce...I wouldn't feel- not that I'm ashamed- but, the girls are young and impressionable. I know they are well aware of why you spend the night, but at least it isn't so much on display." Giles blushed.

"Am I going to find my passionate boyfriend turned into a meek and boring husband?" Joyce arched one smooth eyebrow.

"No!" He rolled her underneath him. "I just want to wait until closer to the actual wedding before I invade the house." He nipped her lip.

"Invade me, is more like it." She giggled, nipping him back.

"You just wait until we have a honeymoon- when I don't have to let you leave." His laugh was deep and dangerous, matching the glint in his green eyes.

"Mmmm, overnight some place? A little bed and breakfast?"

"Overnight won't do, Luv. We deserve a week at the very least. You and I have been kept on the shelf for far, far too long."

"But the shop-"

"Anya." He started moving purposely down her cheeks, crossing her shoulders with hot, light kisses.

"I can't close the gallery again..."

"Your assistant could run it. Buffy and Dawn might like to help. Tara- she knows a lot about art."

"Spike knows more than you'd think." Joyce arched her neck up into his touch.

"So you'll have helpers. Willow and Tara could help Anya at the Magic Box as well."

"They're good kids."

"They're bloody wonderful, but I don't want to hear one more word about them until morning." He ordered. She laughingly nodded. "You just focus on one week of wedded bliss."

"No kids."

"No emergencies." Giles sighed.

"No phones or emails." She smiled with a peaceful glow.

"No sales and invoices." By this time they were moaning and laughing as they merged.

"And only a year to wait." Joyce whimpered.

"Bloody hell." The thought stilled them both, and their eyes locked, exchanging a rueful glare. "Well... if we must, we must.

"Yes. Things need time to grow."

"Though I'd grow to love you more, wed or unwed." Rupert whispered, beginning to move again, smiling down at the sweet, ivory face and honey curls looking up at him.

Joyce closed her eyes and tried to hold onto responsibility. "I love you."

"And I you."

"Rupert?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?" He paused, stroking her hair back from her damp forehead.

"How do you feel about short engagements?"

His eyes lit up, then faded. "No. No, Joyce, I could never be so selfish, asking you to rush even more than I already have."

"You didn't ask, I did. And it isn't selfish, it's the opposite. You'd be assuming the role of father and husband, helper, and you'd never get me out of your way."

"I've had enough of people being out of my way. I want you under foot- or at least under some part os me, at all times." He laughed into the curve of her swan-like neck.

"So, I repeat. How do you feel about short engagements?"

"I think they're marvelous." He beamed.

_The next night..._

"Alright, Pet. Jus' you an' me." Spike closed and locked their bedroom door. "You can take off your 'I'm so bloody happy for you' face an' start talkin'."

"I _am_ happy. But this- this is like the shortest engagement in the history of the world." Buffy sat on the bed and kicked her boots off.

Joyce had sat Buffy and Dawn down for "just ten minutes" after dinner. Which had turned into two hours. Sensing that this was going to be one of the things he didn't want to stick around for, Spike left early on, patrolled, came back, and found Giles was now sitting with the trio of women, and all of them were in full planning mode. The wedding was going to be in a few weeks.

"Oh- don't you act like you were just fine with it. I heard the growliness. I saw the looks you gave Giles. The only reason you weren't a total jerk when my mom told you is because you're a total mama's boy."

Spike's hand and head snapped back as one, pain and fury on his features. "You bitch." He hissed.

_Why did I say that? He tries so hard to be kind and gentle to her, and I know it isn't always easy. Plus- he lost his mother, trying to save her. Why did I say that?_ "I am. I am a bitch, I'm sorry. I am so- that was _so_ bad of me to say." Buffy sprang from the bed to his arms, remorse all over her face. "You're a gentleman with her, you love her and respect her. And I threw it at you."

"You did." He smacked her backside once, but his anger melted away. His arms went around her, hands rubbing her back. "You're real upset, huh? Lashin' out at me- you haven't done that in months."

"I love you. And yeah. I'm upset."

"It's not my cup of tea either, this quickstep to the altar." They released one another long enough to start undressing.

She sat on the bed with a deep sigh, allowing Spike to come over and take off her necklaces, looking up at him with melting eyes. "It's nice to have someone to talk to. Really talk to."

"True." He still got so excited by her touch, the way her hands were now working around his waistband, pulling his faded black tee shirt slowly from his pants. "So talk, I'm listenin'."

"It seems fast, and it scares me. But I know, in this case, it's stupid of me to be scared. Because even though they've just been dating for a little bit-" Buffy got back up, pacing as she talked, "they've known one another for a long time, and they kind of had this secret attraction slash admiration thing going for longer than anybody knew-"

"Except me." Spike said smugly.

"Yay for you." She commented dryly, and slid out of her pants, chucking them towards the hamper. "It's not going to be big and fancy. Mom deserves that! Plus, everything's going to change in a couple weeks! Giles will be here. Watching what I eat, telling me to do the stretches which I faithfully swear I do every morning, telling me to prioritize... Correcting my grammar!"

"Your Mum wants this wedding nice an' easy, no muss, no fuss. She said she had the big do, an' the end result was nowhere near the happy it should've been. As for Giles...He won't correct your grammar, because he'll be too busy bein' fed up with me. As for the stretches- I'll back you up on the stretches." Spike unstrapped his boots and slid his own pants off, kicking them to the hamper as well. "Won't tell him it's your tight little puss you exercise every morning, but I'll swear up an' down you stretch."

She got too hot and bothered by the thought of how she did indeed stretch around his more than adequate shaft, usually every morning, to be mad at him for derailing her tirade. "It bothers me."

"Bothers me, too." Spike lay back on the bed and waited for her to undo her hair and join him. "I quite liked bein' the man of the house."

"You'll always be my man." Buffy smiled sincerely, pouncing on him as she returned. She straddled his waist, looking down at him. "Tell me I'm worrying for no reason?"

"You're worrying for no reason." He said obediently.

"Are you just saying that?"

"A bit, yeah." He dodged her playful cuff to the head. "Honestly, Slayer, you an' I know they're both in good hands, an' we know it won't be easy. But both of them deserve another chance and they're takin' it." His eyes slid away from hers, lost in his own thoughts. "Good for them."

"Yeah... lucky them." She whispered, and sank her torso to his.

"Not exactly easy to put all the little jealousies away, is it?" Spike stroked from her hair down to her bottom in long, slow pulls of his sinewy hand.

"I'm not the only one then?"

"Not by a long chalk." He snorted.

"I hate myself for feeling anything so petty. But I'm still feeling it. Envy." She sat back up, eyes blazing with indignation. "I don't have the right to feel that way! They're the best people in the world, and they've lived twice as long as me. G-Giles has been concussed, and tortured, and- and his lover killed... Mom- with the divorce, and trying to cope with me and Dawn and the wacky that we are... I want this for them! I love them, and they deserve this!" She punched her fist down for emphasis.

Spike winced as she connected with his shoulder and silently wished that if she were going to start throwing her hands around in bed she'd at least take some lessons about where to apply pressure. "I agree with you." He took her wringing hands and stilled them. "You deserve it, too. An' you know you can't have it." _Because you love _me.

"I could. I just- you're right, I can't. It's not an impossibility, it's more like a big, way, huge big improbability. Even if I could- it still never fell all nice and neatly into place."

"Mum and Watcher-boy didn't have it fall nice an' smooth, Luv. But I take your point. You an' I had to work a lot more out jus' get to this point."

"Spike- I'm happy. Really, actually happy with you."

"Bloody good thing, since I'm happy with you, too." He pulled her to his chest again, and held her there, thoughts running riot through his head. None of them were coherent enough to voice, so he contented himself with massaging her tensed muscles, arching into her fingertips as she trailed them agonizingly, softly up and down from his throat to thighs.

"Were you and Drusilla ever married?" Buffy asked a question that had been nagging her for days. "I know you never got married in a legal wedding. I mean- some kind of private commitment ceremony?"

"Vamps don't marry." _Why don't we do that? Well, no, I know why vamps don't do that, ninety nine percent of us would either flee from the church, or eat the minister. Why don't _I _do it? No need for a church. No need for a minister, a judge would do. _

"Sorry. Yeah, that was a stupid question." _Way to go, Buffy. Bring up his ex, and the fact that he can't get married. Who would marry someone who can't show anything for ID and whose blood test would be completely screwed up? Poor guy. Even if he wanted to- we could never..._

"You're not dumb. It was a good question. An' there is somethin' vamps do. It's a claim. It's a ritual. Before you can ask, I'll tell you- I never claimed Dru, even though I asked her, must've asked her a dozen times in our life together. Once we were alone, that is. I knew she'd never go for it while Angelus and Darla were still there. Darla was the biggest 'anti-claim' whore you've ever heard. Angelus wasn't much better, but then again, he'd been sired by the bitch so..." Spike trailed off as he felt her twitch. "Sorry to mention it, Luv."

"I asked." She looked into his deep blue eyes. "I appreciate that you tell me the truth. That you don't try to protect me from things I need to hear."

"I'm too smart for that. I like not bein' staked." He teased softly, kissing her.

"Do you mind talking about it?"

"Not too much. I asked her, Dru never wanted to. Not because she didn't love me." He reassured himself, as well as Buffy. "Her mind. Too shattered to hold a bond. Claims are intense, an' in all our time, I only ever heard Angelus speak of one pair that did it. Didn't speak highly, mind, but there was a pair. They were in love before they were turned, I think that made the difference."

"So it has to be two vampires?" Her voice was deliberately casual, mild interest only.

"Is this just idle curiosity?" His pupils dilated. She burrowed into his shoulder for a second before raising her head.

"What do you think?" She rasped.

He swallowed. "I think you want to know."

With painful suddenness she was under him, locking her legs around his calves. He was nipping and biting softly all across her chest, neck, cheeks and jaw. "It wouldn't be a real claim, Luv." He tried to control himself.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, it's fine, Buffy. You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?"

"Tell me how to do it, I'll try it."

"You- we can't." He plunged into her soft, yielding belly, harder than he meant to, vampire strength unfettered as the demon struggled to come out and make his mark.

She gasped in a flash of pain, and then pleasure. God, he was big. "Floor!" She hissed, and they slid, her first, sliding down the mattress like a mermaid down a waterfall, him rolling like a jaguar descending from his perch. "Explain it to me."

"You need fangs. You've got to be a vamp. I could claim you- but it would never be a full claim. You can't claim me back unless I turn you. An' I'll never do that."

"I never want that." She shook her head desperately. He reclaimed his spot on top of her, making love in a frenzy of pulsing hips and pumping chests. "I'm sorry." She gasped out, tears standing in her eyes.

"For what? I still love you. Always will." _Look at this girl- puttin' her whole heart and soul out there, for me._ "I always will love you."

"Mine." She twined her arms around his neck and held his forehead to hers.

"That's a claim word." He whispered. "Buffy- don't-"

"Mine." She pressed her hands to his cheeks, eyes pleading. "Unless you don't want me to say that?"

"I want you to say it. I jus' don't want you to hate me later. It won't be a real claim, but even the words mean somethin'."

"You don't have to say it back. It's too soon." Her fingers trailed slowly away, eyes shutting in acceptance.

His hands were brutal when he grabbed her head, and his eyes were startlingly intense. All of him was intense, every line had gone rigid, every muscle clenched. "Do you want to risk this? It means we'll have some kind of bond, weak though it might be! Do you want to be locked up with me forever, some little part of your heart an' your mind always trapped with a monster?"

"If the monster is you." She pried his fingers from her neck, fire in her eyes, lips curling in a passionate snarl. "You said- we have whatever time we have left- together."

"We do. You never have to do this to keep me here. You're my future, Pet, whatever we've got- we've got us. It's the only thing I'm ever sure of now. That it's you an' me."

"So be mine. Just be mine, and I don't care if it's fast. It's what I want. And I know you. You want this just as much."

He opened his mouth to ask if it was what she really wanted. If she understood that it would really mean something, even if there would be no binding in their words, to truly mean them when you said them was still a powerful thing. It was a vow of their own. But his mouth closed.

_I know her. I'm the only one who really does know her. Who sees her soul, who sees her strength, her weakness, her dark and light. Of course she's mine. She's been mine since I decided I wanted her. She ate me up inside until I could only kill her or give myself to her completely to be free of the pain..._

"You're mine." He laced his fingers with hers.

"I'm yours." She agreed. She waited for a jolt, a tremble- nothing. "You're mine, too."

"I'm yours, Sweetlet." He waited for some spark- nothing.

"I thought there would be some mojo stuff." Buffy confessed in a stage whisper, making them both laugh.

"Sorry, it's just words. Well, not_ just_. It's what's behind them."

She nodded, and rolled onto her side, nuzzling into him as they repositioned their bodies in a side to side position. "I still like the words. Mine."

"Mine." He countered, pulling her groin into his, surging in her hot tightness.

"Am I supposed to feel like I'll never be alone again, always be loved, always have one person I can totally count on?" Buffy panted out.

"Yeah. That's it. Feel like the person is inside your head an' your heart an' you can't shake 'em. An' you'd never want to." Spike smiled a slow half grin.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, I just realized it, too."

They paused, laughing eyes and amused smiles in place. "We've been claimed for like- months." Buffy sighed.

"Must not need the words if you're with the right person." Spike kissed her. "All that worry, an' somehow we already bloody linked ourselves up..."

"We're just that good." She preened with a laugh. "So how come I need fangs, then?"

"You're supposed to be marked. During the words. It's the blood drinking, it links your demons together. That won't work with us, Pet, you don't have a demon for me to link to."

"Ohh. I get it." She paused. "Marked?"

"Leave a bite on you. You know I never do that. Love your skin. Love how- what are you doing?" Spike's brow ridged of its own accord. Buffy was running her fingers slowly all over the scarred spot on her neck, a seductive smolder in her eyes.

"I don't want these jerks to have marked me- but my eternal love- slash annoying boyfriend- never did." Her voice was a low, husky, siren's call.

"I don't-"

"You don't want to leave scars. But I already have some. Couldn't you just-" she drew his sharp fangs down to her smooth, bare throat, "let me have yours over top?"

"I'm not like the bastards who touched you. Don't have to mark you to make you my girl." He shook his human features back in place."You don't deserve to get scarred up."

"I already am. But no one ever did it because they loved me."

_She fights dirty. I love that about her. _He gave in. "Then you bite me back. Right here." He pointed to his own set of wounds. "Fangs or not- you've got slayer strength. It'll leave a mark."

"For a day or two." She pouted.

"You'll just have to keep doing it." He purred.

"Oh, I will." One hand latched onto the back of his head, pulling it again to her scars, rocking herself against him, his coarse curls matting with hers, rubbing her nub on each stroke.

"I love you so much." He whispered, eyes closing, slowly transforming. "You're mine. Mine to love." She nodded rapidly, and he could smell the want inside her. He bit more slowly and gently than he ever had. It wasn't just to drink, he was trying to put something in, not just draw something out._ Give her part of me, an' never take it back._

Her muscles spasmed in a long domino effect, neck to her core, milking his cock, pumping her blood into his mouth. "Oh." She could only make a soft cry, almost mute in the crashing feeling of pleasure, combined with the warmth and safety of his arms around her. Her climax was slow, boiling and burning, fluttering her walls around him until some deep inner ache exploded in a hot rush of juice.

"Can't seal you, Luv, or it won't mark." He apologized after she came in her silent spasm. "I sealed around it, won't make a big scar. Might actually take some of the old ones away."

"I don't care about that. I don't care about anything but you and me." She was still clinging to his head and shoulders, but rapidly riding him to a frenzy. "I want you close. I want you almost ready to cum, Spike."

"Well, talking like that usually does it." He gasped as she held herself on for a long, straining caress.

"I love you. You're mine to love. All mine now." She hesitantly traced his wounds with her tongue. _No one but me gets to love him like this. I'll make him loved. Like he makes me loved. No more looking, and searching and breaking our hearts._ "Mine!" She clamped her teeth together on his skin, and felt a spurt of blood in her mouth.

"Yours." He cried automatically, spiraling out in pleasant oblivion, seed emptying into her with a tepid rush while his blood trickled far more slowly.

"Now I-" She tried to remember what to do, but she was all hazy feeling. _Right. You seal the wounds. Because you don't scar him. Because you love him and it's a crime to hurt this pretty creamy skin._

He laughed softly when he felt her lapping and dragging her tongue over his skin . "I'm okay, Buffy. I'm already healing, I just had some sweet Slayer juice to fix me up. Here now." He took her mouth in his and lovingly removed any crimson traces. "My girl."

"My Spike."

He paused as they lay there, after glow and contentment bathing their tangled bodies. "D'you feel any different?"

"Yeah." She smiled lazily. "I feel better." She smiled at him with all her heart in the gesture, and fell asleep in his arms.

_To be concluded..._


	8. Chapter 8

If You're Sure

By Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to the Sex and Candy, See You on the Flip Side, Should Have Known Better Trilogy. Please read the trilogy first, or this isn't going to make sense._

_Set between seasons five and six in an AU where Buffy and Joyce are alive and well, Riley's gone, and Spike's pretty well accepted into Buffy's life._

_Notes: This is going to be fluffy with some smut. People told me the trilogy need a sequel, and I tried not to listen, but you know that goes..._

_Hope you all enjoy, read and review!_

_**Smuttiness and Mushiness Warning!**_

_Direct quotes from songs and shows are obviously not mine but belong to the enormously talented people who created them. This chapter references Van Morrison's _Moondance.

_Dedicated to Hannah the Bloody, Lithium Reaper, jmoran319, Methuselah Honeysuckle, Olfactory-Ventriloquism, and McPastey_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part VIII

_The evening of the wedding..._

Only a handful of close friends, Joyce's sister and brother-in-law, and the Scoobies remained. Joyce and Giles were hugging, making their final round of farewells before they would go in and change into comfortable traveling gear.

"You can dance, you know." Spike gestured to Buffy's uncle, Giles, and Xander.

"No thanks. I did my obligatory dance with the groom."

"You know I'm not askin' you."

"I know." She laughed softly, and let her hair down.

"It gives the old biddies somethin' to gossip about." He shifted uncomfortably against the folding table he leaned against.

"So true, so true." She giggled again, and slipped her shoes off as well. "Ahhh. Barefoot in the grass. If I step on an earthworm, you better prepared for me to crawl on top of your head."

"I don't get you." He reached for a cigarette, and realized he still didn't have any in that damn suit. "You can take on all manner of the squishy sort, but steppin' on a worm is gonna make you shriek like a -hell, for lack of a better word- a _girl_?"

"Pretty much." She wriggled her toes in the lawn. "Or if I step in a shrimp puff that someone dropped."

"I love you." He had to laugh.

"Duh." She teased, and ran her hand across his arm.

"Okay...one more song and then it's time to boogie on out of here!" Xander slurred happily, commandeering the stereo.

"Never thought I'd say this, but God bless the boy." Spike sighed.

"You just want to get me upstairs so you can have your wicked way with me."

"I do." Spike smiled. "What's under this little white number?"

"Shelf bra and a white lacy thong." She whispered, making sure no one was close enough to hear them. He stifled a groan and tried to focus his attention elsewhere.

"They look right happy." Spike allowed himself a genuine smile as the bride and groom sauntered out to the cleared place on the lawn.

"Willow and Tara are going out!" Buffy beamed. Her friends hadn't felt comfortable enough to do that at first, but now they were embracing, heads on each other's shoulders. Anya stood, waiting alone for her partner to join her, watching him flip through the song selection with a proud smile on her face.

The first soft notes of a song pulsed out. "Ooh, it's jazzy. Mom's gonna love this." Buffy swayed, a smile lighting up her face.

_She's a lovely sight. Silver and flickering in the combination of torches and moonlight._ "You remember how you said you thought I'd crack first? With the public display of affection?"

"Yeah." She grinned, feeling his fingers curl firmly with her own.

"If you dance with me- you have to admit we cracked at the same time. Or I'm stayin' right here and gettin' a smoke." He offered a surly deal.

"Agreed. Mutual cracking-ness." She tripped lightly through the cool grass, pulling him after her.

_Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance_

_With the stars up above in your eyes_

_A fantabulous night to make romance_

_'Neath the cover of October skies_

Spike ignored the knowing smiles of Joyce, Tara, and Willow. Buffy put her head on his chest, and he closed his eyes, blocking out the rest of the world.

_And all the leaves on the trees are fallin'_

_To the sound of the breezes that blow_

_An' I'm trying to please to the callin'_

_Of your heart strings that play soft and low_

_And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush_

_And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush_

_Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?_

_Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?_

"Look who finally came out." Xander's voice teased as he and Anya swayed past.

"Shut up, pillock." Spike muttered, burying his lips in Buffy's sweet scented hair, and twirled her farther away, dancing in their own private patch of moonlight.

_Well, I wanna make love to you tonight_

_I can't wait 'til the morning has come_

_And I know now the time is just right_

_And straight in to my arms you will run_

"They make really good songs for us." Buffy whispered, looking up at her lover.

_And when you come, my heart will be waiting_

_To make sure that you're never alone_

_There and then, all my dreams will come true, dear_

_There and then, I will make you my own_

"Mmhmm. You certainly are _mine_." He brushed a thumb softly across her neck, his loving, if unofficial, claim concealed by makeup.

_And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside_

_And I know how much you want me that you can't hide_

_Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?_

_Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?_

"You certainly know how to make a girl tremble." Buffy conceded, fire flooding her when she felt how hard he was against her.

_Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance_

_With the stars up above in your eyes_

_A fantabulous night to make romance_

_'Neath the cover of October skies_

"Tell you a secret." He gazed into her starry green depths.

_And all the leaves on the trees are falling_

_To the sound of the breezes that blow_

_And I'm trying to please to the calling_

_Of your heart strings that play soft and low_

"What's that?" She spoke over her thudding heart.

_And all the nights magic seems to whisper and hush_

_And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush_

He laid a palm to her flushing pink cheek. "The tremblin' is mutual." They shared a smirk.

_Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?_

_Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?_

"Must be what happens when you're in love."

"Must be." He let his smirk be replaced with a softening smile as she stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth to his.

_One more moon dance with you_

_In the moon light, on a magic night_

_All the moon light, on a magic night_

_Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?_

The song ended with a flourish of jazzy brass, leaving four couples scattered around the grass, all of them kissing, in various degrees of chastity.

"Wooooohooooo! That's one for the album!" Dawn's rapid fire camera flashes startled the four couples out of their lip locks.

"Dawn!" Joyce admonished.

"Niblet, I'm gonna come over there an'-" Spike stopped. Buffy's aunt, uncle, and several of Joyce's friends were still in attendance. "Be very upset." He concluded with a glower.

"Oh, come on, big brother-man. It's a party tonight. You need to stop being grumpy." Spike bit back two successive cried of surprise as Dawn called him "brother" and then wrapped her arms around his waist in a violent squeeze.

"Oh, bloody hell." He swallowed and gasped, before letting himself hug her back. "Those end up on the net, an' I'll slit your throat an' drink you for breakfast." He whispered.

"Just in family albums, I swear." She whispered back, grinning.

_I'm family. Don't know how. In a million years, I'll never know how._ "Alright. You live." He grinned back.

Joyce and Rupert made their rounds, hugging and seeing couples off, until at last, only five figures remained on the front porch of the house. "The backyard doesn't seem too bad." Joyce fretted.

"Mom, we'll take care of it." Buffy reassured.

"I know. I know you will." Joyce laughed and shrugged. "You can save the world, why should I be worried about you moving some folding tables and chairs?" Then her eyes turned plaintively to Spike. "Spike?"

"I'll make sure she doesn't mess it up." He let himself be pulled into her arms and returned her hug. "Look after yourself." He whispered in her ear.

"I will. You know we love you, right?'

He kept his voice even with an effort. "Yeah. Love you, too... Mum."

"Thank you." She squeezed his hands and directed him to the groom.

The men regarded each other calmly. "Have a nice time. You-uh-you take good care of her." Spike took Giles' outstretched hand.

"I assuredly will. Your job is far less enviable. Enjoy keeping Dawn and Buffy out of trouble." He gave a smug chuckle

"You're hilarious, Rupert." Spike smirked. "But I'll do my best."

"Now- Dawn, you listen to Buffy and Spike. And- and- there's money for groceries in the envelope on top of the microwave. Oh- the gallery key is on the hook by the coatrack."

"Mom. You did this whole spiel already." Buffy soothed.

"A _lot_." Dawn crossed her arms. "Go have fun being married! I promise I'll be good."

"I know you will. My baby girl." Joyce hugged Dawn hard and smoothed her shining brunette hair. "I'll bring you a souvenir."

"Goody. Love you. Love you, Giles. Do I have to call you Rupert now?"

"No, please, I'd never get used to that. Call me Giles, as always." He hugged his youngest stepchild quickly, and stroked her smooth cheek. "You know you can reach us if necessary." He peered into her eyes.

"Yuppers." She kissed his cheek, and retreated to Spike's side.

"I'm happy for you, Mom." Buffy locked her mom in her strong arms. "He's a good guy."

"He is. And you have a good guy, too." She looked gravely into her daughter's eyes. "Don't waste time. Make sure he knows."

Buffy gulped, thinking about how abundantly clear things had become to them both in just a few months. How precious, if strange, their comfortable relationship was. How in love they were. "I will. You- you do that, too."

"Oh, I will." Joyce winked, and Buffy pursed her lips.

"Mo-om! Ick. Save it for the ship."

"Speaking of which." Giles tapped his watch. "We've a long drive to our docking point." They would spend the night in a hotel suite near the ship's arrival point, then catch their cruise ship early the next day, sail for five days up and down the coast, and return to port.

"Have fun, Giles." Buffy hugged him with her surprising strength, making him gasp. "You know I love you more now, right?'

"I had hoped so. It's mutual." He brushed his lips to her brow and bent to shoulder their bags. With many tearful, smiling waves, the couple climbed into the red BMW and left for a well deserved week of wed bliss.

Spike's eyes darted nervously between Dawn and Buffy, who flanked him on either side. He heard the strange uptick in breathing, heard the gasping before they did- and found himself in the middle of bawling sandwich. "Oh. Oh, bloody hell! Stop it, stop right now!" He growled severely and shook them both.

"But it's s-s-so sw-sweet!" Dawn explained tremulously.

"B-beautiful." Buffy blubbered.

"There are twenty chairs in the lawn to get folded! An' all the linens need to get put in a bag! Come on, help me stack 'em up on the porch so the rental place can just collect 'em in the morning."

"In this dress?" Dawn sniffled.

"We have to get changed." Buffy shook her head.

"I'm too tired to stack." Dawn whined.

"Damn all the..." Spike had long since shrugged out of his jacket and tie, and now pulled off his shirt. "I'll stack an' fold. You jus' put on the torches, an' bring me some bags for the tablecloths. Niblet, take my togs in an' put 'em back in the suit bag in our room. Last thing I need is frosting all over a hired suit..."

Between the three of them, the yard managed to get cleaned up. Dawn came back from packing Spike's suit in a tee shirt and sleep shorts, and helped with the chairs. Buffy, mindful of her dress, but not wanting to make the effort to change and return, took over collecting all the miscellaneous trash, plastic ware, plastic champagne flutes, etc, and carefully set the trash by the curb.

"We'll have to do more later." Buffy finally called a halt as clouds began to obscure the moon. The torches were put out. "Dawn and I'll finish in the daylight."

"At least it's Sunday. No gallery." Dawn yawned. She reflexively hugged her sister and Spike. "Love you guys. Night." She smiled sleepily and headed inside and upstairs.

"Everybody 'round here loves me. It's oddly disquietin'." Spike shrugged, his shoulders rippling and enticing Buffy.

"Nahhh." Buffy waved the thought away with a broad smile, and tugged him inside. "It's not 'disquieting'." They spent a few minutes locking up and turning off lights throughout the house. "You're a nice guy."

"I am-" Spike began his typical protest.

Buffy cut him off. "Yes, you _are_. When you want to be." She came back to the living room where Spike was leaning in quiet defeat against the couch.

"And for you lot, I wanna be." He confessed. "Sounds like Dawn's down. Can hear her snorin' away, that fast."

"Let's go." She headed towards the stairs and started up them.

Spike followed her, scooping her up as they reached the top of the stairs. He pressed her to the wall with a kiss. "You wrecked, Baby?"

"Not so much. Kinda jittery. Need to settle."

"I can make you some of my world famous cocoa." Spike sat her down outside the bathroom.

"No thanks." Buffy smiled warmly at him. He kissed her forehead and prepared to walk away. " Hey, stay with me?"

"Hopin' you'd say that." Spike followed her into the bathroom and immediately popped back out.

"What?"

"Bit- her- underthings are hangin' up with the dress." Spike gestured to the towel rack.

"She was wiped, I'll put them on Mom's bed." Buffy scurried the dress and "underthings" out, returning with a bemused smile on her face. Spike straightened up from turning on the shower.

"Why the cat an' canary grin?"

"You freaked because you saw Dawn's undies."

"Would you rather I acted the way I do when I see yours?" He countered, quirking a brow at her.

"No!"

"Oh- an' a word of warnin'. I know the Poof loves you, but if he ever gets 'de-souled' he won't go after anyone faster than that little girl in there." Spike's eyes yellowed for a moment and his jaw clenched.

Buffy paused, looking horrified. "What?"

"If he ever loses it- stake him. Or I will. Before he gets to Dawn." His voice was a harsh breath, his eyes glazed with long memorized hate.

"Okay, I understand... it's fine." Buffy soothed. "Thank you for loving her, for caring."

"Oh, God, Luv, I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring up anythin' ugly tonight. I only did because it just- reminded me of somethin'. The different ways we react. Especially to women." _ Not just young women. Women we loved. _Said _we loved._

"But you both feel the same about me?" She hazarded quietly.

"Yeah, that's the gist of it." Spike cursed the part of his brain that had ever departed from hunt, kill, drink the blood, an' move on. _William _made connections. _William _pondered love an' felt that stupid tug of fear when he thought about what Angelus might do to someone young, female, and dear to Buffy.

"But you don't, Spike. Both of you don't have the same feelings._ You_ love me. You _like_ me. You don't want me to change- not anything major." They shared a grin.

"Like your pitiful taste in music."

"Or your smoking!" She spat back automatically.

"Move on, get to the point." Spike felt himself relax enough to prod her along.

"I like the way you treat me. Like I'm special, but not fragile. Like you'd die for me, but you know I can kick anybody's ass. Like you don't look at the future and say 'no, that won't work'." Her eyes shone. "When you think about the future, you say 'we might as well try'."

"You're a bloody brilliant woman. An' of course, you're right." He felt the gravity of her words, but he allowed a small note of playfulness to enter his tone.

"Ha. Still admitting it." She was glad he hadn't turned this into a more emotional moment than it already was. Emotions were running high, and she loved their mutual passion- but she also liked that they could usually allow each other a little banter to breathe.

"Once every few months won't kill me- anymore than it already has." He shrugged.

She took his hands, ignoring his self-depreciating gesture."Thanks for looking out for Dawn. And Mom." She hesitated. "Even me."

"You're welcome." His grin faded, replaced by a soft, serious expression.

She moved closer than she already was, slipping her bare toes lightly on top of his. "This steam is going to ruin my dress- if I don't get out of it."

"Then by all means, let's get you out of it."

Spike's deft fingers found the few inches of zipper on her extreme lower back, and tugged. The dress fell to the floor. Both of them were careful not to tread on it as they moved. "How the hell does that little thing stay up?" Spike looked at her shelf bra, the kind that only covered her bust, and had no back or straps.

"An ungodly amount of wire." Buffy winced as she leaned back, letting it un-mold from her pert breasts and upper ribcage area.

"Oh, Pet, you got little marks." Spike kissed her indented flesh gently. "Spike'll fix it." He said with a demonic leer and a deep throated laugh that made her moisten further.

"Ah, gentle, just like that." She moaned softly as his lips kissed her red skin. "Wow. I just used the word 'gentle' in the context of you and sex."

"Shhh. That's a sign of apocalypse, an' we're not due until next spring." He mouthed the swollen buds of her nipples, tonguing them more insistently as her hands shoved his zipper down, trousers following in a heartbeat. "Two can play at that game, Missy." He hooked his thumbs into her thong's narrow silk waistband and tugged the slender strip of fabric from between her pouting lips.

"Ow!" She winced, and he recoiled a half step. "No, it's fine, just-"

"I got it." He didn't tease her, although inside he was crowing. She was hot and bothered, and the tiny triangle of cloth had burrowed into her heat. He freed it more slowly, and caressed her with two tender fingertips. "What-"

"Oh. Yeah." Buffy blushed.

"This is new." Spike murmured appreciatively. All the little honey curls were gone, replaced by smooth, pink skin. "For the special weddin' wear?" Maybe girls did that when wearing a little short dress, little bit of lace for a thong, no slip, no stockings...

"Yeah. I'm not planning to keep it like this, major annoyance to get all the little spaces, let me tell you."

"No, it's fine, Luv, Your body, I just visit." Nonetheless his fingertips played over the skin wonderingly, and wondered how far she'd gone. One finger nestled between her legs. Equally smooth, her lips, her mound, all bare. "But it's a nice treat. More skin to love." He reached up with his other hand and freed the bunch of white blossoms from her hair. "Let's get in, we're drivin' up the water bill."

"Mr. Suburbia." She giggled, but obeyed.

"Hot water and hot bodies, God I love this." Spike slid into the stream and snuggled up to his warm lover.

"Feeling so much better." Buffy moaned as his hands started rubbing her shoulders and back.

"All the tension leavin' you?"

"Most of it." She wiggled her wet, curvy rear against him invitingly.

"No, not yet. Fun things to nibble first." Spike lathered her as she lathered him, and they quickly rinsed, eager for what was coming next.

"You stay up." Buffy placed a restraining hand in the center of his chest.

"But-" His mouth was practically watering at the thought of her, all bare and easily lickable, all the juice just for him without any curls catching spare droplets.

"But you have to wait." She slowly licked down to his hardness, teasing the tip with her tongue.

"Patience is becoming one of my strong suits around here." Spike groaned softly.

"Not even close." Buffy mouthed around the shaft, tongue flipping up and down, stroking his sensitive skin. "You had a long exhausting day, too."

"Babysittin' the boy an' Rupes is no picnic."

"Trying to control Anya is nothing fun either. Woman's like _Bride_ magazine on steroids."

"At least- ohhh fuck, Luv." Spike lost interest in the conversation, focusing on her loving mouth instead. Soon his eyes closed and head lolled back, both hands digging in gently to his partner's scalp. "Switch." He gasped momentarily.

"You have more self-control than that." She still slowed her pace.

"Not as much as you'd think. Remember- you said- I had a stressful day." Though he didn't need to breathe, his words were still labored. "Besides-" He crouched, seizing her mouth, "you had more emotional baggage about today an' all that. _Your turn_." He growled softly, and walked his hands back, forcing her to slide down, giggling as she slipped.

"This bathtub isn't big enough for this." She gasped in a moment as they tried to wrangle into position.

"Then we need to get you out of here. Or go someplace where the bath is a damn sight bigger." Spike made one more futile attempt to pleasure her as she lay and he crouched, only succeeding in skinning his lower back on the faucet. "Shit."

"You get out first- don't step on me."

"I won't, I won't..." He rolled his eyes, stepping out and helping her rise. Once wrapped in towels, they silently padded to their room and locked the door.

"Is Dawn still asleep?"

Spike cocked his head. "Mhmm. Deep sleep, from what I can tell."

"Let me just-" Buffy sorted through the ever present, ever needed "noise cover" music, and put on Pink Floyd with a nostalgic smile. "The first time you spent the whole night." _It was a sad night, but he was there for me. And now look how many happy nights we've had since._ She scrubbed the water from her body and vigorously rubbed her hair.

"First bite. First time you ever-" He swaggered to her, "let me in your mouth."

"We talked."

"We did."

"I'm glad."

"Me, too." Spike watched her shiver and steered her towards her pajama drawer. "Put on a top. No bottom. I haven't had my pretty peach yet."

"I have something you might like even better." Buffy held up a black silk nighty.

"When did that little bit of naughtiness sneak in?"

"Anya, Tara, and Willow decided to buy Mom lingerie for her honeymoon. They dragged me along on their shopping trip, so I picked this up." She slid into it. "Hmmm. Not too warm. I think you'd better get busy and raise my temperature."

Momentarily having been put off by the words "lingerie" and "Mom" in close connection, Spike made a swift recovery. "Prepare to be warmed up, Pet." He smirked, tongue flickering up behind his teeth in that irrepressible grin, and then out across his pale lips. With a hungry kiss, he grabbed her and spun her to the mattress, kissed his way down the silk that just reached to her thighs, and paused. He looked up from her hemline, still smirking. "Comfy?"

"Uh-huh." She sucked in air, skin flushing in anticipation.

"Good. Because you're going to be here for awhile." He settled between her thighs with a wink, and her head sank back with a groan of lust.

Buffy's skin was softer than the silk nighty, Spike decided. How had he never noticed how perfect this sweet little triangle of flesh was? Even when the curls came back, he vowed not to neglect this patch any longer. As for now... God. Just perfect, slightly plump with a padding of soft, succulent flesh that he just wanted to sink his teeth into.

"Holy crap!" Her cry was breathless and surprised as fangs prickled along her sensitive satin skin. It wasn't painful, but it was unexpected and pushed her adrenaline buzzer. Wetness seeped from her core to her outer lips in a fresh wave.

"Shhh. No biting. Don't wanna hurt my baby. Just wanted to taste you like this." His amber eyes met hers, and he wondered if those predatory ridges and coloring upset her tonight. Maybe on nights like tonight the demon should stay in.

"Vampy senses are enhanced, huh?" Buffy smiled down knowingly, wondering how she could look at his game face and feel nothing more than when she saw his human face, but why all other vampires disgusted her. _Must be love._

"You understand." He laughed once in relief. "Don't worry, Pet- keepin' the teeth away from the delicates." His tongue swirled out over her tight pink bead and then wormed its way sinfully into her sopping passage. "You taste so fuckin' good." He growled, and dug in to her spread thighs, losing himself in the velvet texture and the miraculous way that her juice seemed to spread everywhere tonight.

"OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodSpike!" Buffy's cry was frantic and fast. "God- what're you doing- how?" She was inarticulate with pleasure.

Spike, still in game face, slid one finger deep inside and ignored her cries, worrying her folds with his lips, teeth tucked under his skin. Lapping, pulling, teasing each pink petal until he felt her shudder on his hand, and then lapping at her clit to send her over the edge again.

It was too much, she was getting dizzy from orgasms racking her body. "Spike- come here-" She tangled her hand in his hair and tried to bring him away. He growled warningly and burrowed more deeply between her thighs. "Spike! Take it easy." She panted, and felt him slow his ministrations.

"Sorry, Luv. You taste so damn amazin'. Did you really want me to come up- or can I give you one more?" He asked with a wicked leer.

_Well, geez, if a guy asks you like _that. Buffy let herself collapse, muscles still quaking. "One more- but- you could give a girl a heart attack like that."

"I can hear your heart. It was chugging along nicely. And blood was rushing- all-down- to- me." Spike punctuated each word with a stroke of his finger, then returned to his succulent feast, this time drawing it out, using only his tongue to please her. Deliberate with each lick and swirl, he savored her salty sweetness.

When she came, the force of it made her sit up with an anguished sounding wail. Spike looked up in surprise, never having heard her make quite that sound, so desperate, almost pained. Her legs were drawing back and she tucked into a kneeling position as soon as she could, shaking. "Luv?"

"I need you in me." She rasped and her hands crashed into his shoulders.

"You can have me." He laughed in relief. "Thought I overdid it."

"You did, but I loved it. I never- not that many powerful ones in a row." She threw herself down on him with a breathless cry, eyes crinkling up in silent laughter as she watched him convulse in pleasure, eyes and heading rolling back as one. "I hope you're comfy- you're going to be here for a while." She turned his own words back on him.

"Not as long as you think. Could've cum just from watchin' you." He cupped her breasts in his hands, looking up at her wonderingly.

"Really?" She blushed.

"No sight I love more." He moved one hand from her breast to her cheek. "That, an' your smile."

"You melt me." She whispered, said smile transforming her face from passionate and aggressive to sweet and adoring.

"No, Buffy. If anyone melted- it was me." Spike sighed, and pulled her from a riding position to a lying position, her body flat on his, while he was still buried inside.

"I felt too far away." Buffy whispered. Spike nodded, and they drank one another in a long kiss, hips rocking gently, steadily as they made love.

"How long did you want me to stay like this?" Spike grunted softly, after having resisted his own release for the second time.

"Until you can't take it anymore." Buffy purred. Her own orgasms were spasms so intense she felt sure she could split in half- and he was withstanding it.

"Did I ever mention you'd be good at torture?" Spike hissed as he felt her start to climax around him again.

"You have. Ohhh. Baby..."

"That's it, Luv. You go- an' I'll go right with you." He wiped her sweating brow with his own, both of them wearing expressions of intense concentration. She nodded, forehead bumping with his, too close to speak. He started pumping up into her, meeting her steady rocking thrusts, feeling her spread open around him, his tip to some soft, unyielding flesh inside her.

"Love you." She gasped and sank her teeth into his neck to stifle her near tearful groans of culmination.

His own release refused to be silenced, ending with a soft, relieved bellow, hands gripping her soft waist hard enough to bruise. His hips locked forward and stayed forward, emptying all of himself into her. "Oh, fuck. Oh, God, Slayer. Buffy. _Fuck_." He panted as the fog cleared from his brain.

She just nodded and gulped, unmoving on top of him.

"I love you, too. By the way." He realized he hadn't returned the sentiment a moment ago.

"Good to know." She whispered, a laugh in her voice.

After about ten minutes of half-awake petting and praising, the lovers fell asleep, still joined at the waist.

"Ohhh." Something hard was pulsing inside her. "Ohhh?" Something was making her feel good.

"Ungh." Something had him trapped, pulled upright, hard and throbbing.

"Spike?"

"Gotta say- somethin' to be said for super powers." Spike blinked in confusion and realized the soft trap around his cock was Buffy's moist tunnel.

"We fell asleep like this? How are you still hard?" She demanded sitting up, puzzled.

"Dunno. You did nearly break me, makin' me close a half dozen times, an' I only came once. Or maybe we just reconnected in the night."

"What time is it?" She looked around blearily.

"Four." Spike found the red digital numbers with a twist of his head. "Come here, settle back down."

"I can't sleep." Buffy protested. She gently slid off of him, tissues sticking painfully together.

"Sorry 'bout that." Spike watched her wince.

"Thanks, Brave Guy. I imagine it wasn't so pain-free for you, either." She slid her nighty on over her head from where it had been thrown off at some point.

"If I can wake up like that every day, I'll take it." Spike grinned. He covered himself with a sheet as Buffy cautiously opened the door and snuck off to the bathroom. Once the door was shut behind her, he stretched and found a pair of his black sweats and put them on. He felt oddly refreshed and excited. _We've got the week to ourselves- sort of. Just lookin' forward to havin' some time where it's like- this is our place, just for us. Dawn notwithstanding, this time "alone" is going to be bloody fantastic._

Buffy returned and looked at Spike, sitting up in bed. His hair was a riot of curls and his face was boyish and beaming. "What happened to naked boyfriend?" She hissed, sliding in beside him.

"He put on somethin' in case he happened to bump into your sister."

"Dawn will sleep until noon. Or at least until she smells food." They both laughed.

"It's early. We can get some more kip." Spike reclined, letting her fit into the crook of his arm. "Or... we can finish what we started in our sleep?"

"I was hoping you'd say that." Buffy giggled, and he rolled on top of her.

"I thought that would have tired us out." Buffy mused, straightening her nighty and clambering out of bed, seeking cooler air.

"I'm not sleepy. I could go again, if you give me a few minutes. An' a pint." Spike felt happily depleted, but not at all exhausted. He scooted out of bed and sat on the floor in front of it, beside Buffy. Both of them leaned their heads back against the mattress and shared a triumphant grin. "Good day yesterday, huh?"

"It was. I wonder how Mom and Giles are? I wonder if they're up yet?"

"Prob'ly all shagged out." Spike chuckled. Buffy elbowed him. "In love people tend to take advantage of privacy." He pointed out meaningfully.

"I know." She laced her fingers with his. "Mmm. We have the day off. No gallery. Anya and Willow are working the Magic Box. Nothing to do until patrol."

"Special day indeed." He laughed ruefully, raking his hand through his tumble of curls. Special day. "Hang on." Spike stood up abruptly, and Buffy began to tense, watching him. "Nothin' of the bad variety." He placated, and rooted around in his single drawer in the dresser. Shirts, socks, shirts- there in the back- money, jewelry, a few knives, a stake, a crossbow that needed a new string- there. His fingers closed over the polished garnet and gold ring.

"Spike?"

"I got you somethin'." He came back and sat beside her again. Both of them shifted subtly so that they were halfway face to face, but still side by side. Companionable. "I had it for a bit, but I wanted to give it to you on a special day."

"Ohh, Baby! I didn't get you anything." Buffy wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled his head to his in a kiss.

"It's not that kind of a gift." He shook his head._ What if she thinks I mean something- more than I do mean? I mean- I would love to -it isn't like I- oh_ fuck_! I'm startin' to sound like her inside my head! _"I saw this. It looks a lot like one my mum had." Spike opened his hand and showed Buffy the large opal cut garnet. "It's not valuable. It's actually a garnet, not a ruby, so prolly quite cheap. But Mum had one. So much like this one." Spike's voice drifted off for a moment, eyes fascinated by the ring.

"It's gorgeous." Buffy stared at the ring, his face, and back to the ring again. Her throat was tightening alarmingly.

He blinked himself back to the present. "No big deal. I just wanted you to have it." He spoke in a hardbitten voice, armor back on. He took her hand firmly and pressed the ring to her palm, closing her fingers over it. "It's yours."

She was shocked and pleased, and moved. She watched him watching her, trying to look like he wasn't. With a slight tremble in her hand she tried the ring on. It was a little loose, but fit securely enough on her ring finger. She toyed with placing it on the right hand, so it wouldn't seem so much like a- like another kind of ring- but her heart stubbornly refused. _I've got a beautiful ring, the closest thing to an heirloom ring he can give me, and unlike someone else's ring, this won't have to come off when he turns evil. I'm wearing it where it shows I'm loved, that I have a man in my life. _"I love it." She finally managed to whisper, holding it up, watching it catch the dull lamp light.

He beamed unashamedly, casual indifference gone. "Good!" He cried emphatically, breaking into a satisfied chuckle before he took her hand with one of his, and used the other to cradle her face for a resounding kiss. He pulled back with a smug grin and a sigh. "I do love you. My Buffy."

_I'm his. His love._ "I love you, too. My Spike. My William." He looked surprised, but he didn't lose his smile. "This is an amazing gift." She murmured.

"Glad you like it." He softly stroked her hand, watching her eyes transfixed on the ring.

"Slayers don't live very long." She whispered, not looking at him. He peered at her, and saw her eyes filling with tears.

_Oh hell. Oh you bloody stupid great prat! Just reminded her, didn't you? That she'll never have a big white wedding and pretty diamond on that hand. That- even if she did- she might not make it past her first anniversary... _"I know. An' vamps do." He would love just to lie to her, 'There, there, you and me will get old and gray together.' _But I'll be here long after she's gone._ His heart reminded him not to start lying to himself. _No, I won't last long at all without her. Love her too much._

She looked up at him with liquid green eyes, lips aquiver. "B-but, if you say only I can take you out, and only you can take me out- or we go together...?" She looked so scared and so hopeful.

He turned and got right in front of her, taking both of her hands and meeting her eyes. "Then maybe we have years on us." He squeezed her hands harder. "But, Luv- I don't think- even if I wanted to be- that I'm the kind that you could- marry." He swallowed. "You know that."

She nodded, freeing one hand and stroking his face with frantic fingertips. "I know. I know, but you're here with me. I don't need anything more." She kissed him swiftly, pink lips turning up in a sincere, if shaky, grin.

_Someone who just wants me for me. And just as I am. With what I can give._ His eyes closed in an expression of exquisite pain. "I wish I could give you more, Luv. Give you everything." _I could find a way. I know I could, but she's not saying she wants me to. She's just- in love. _

"I will always take whatever you want to give me. If- if you wanted to give it." She stumbled over the words, heart and brain all jumbled.

"You're already my other half, you know." He dug his fingers into her hands and lifted them to her lips, kissing her wrists. "My reflection, even when I don't have one."

"Shh. Shh, I know." They ended up holding one another, kissing, a strange desperation over them. "Why are we freaking?" She finally asked.

"I dunno." He laughed hoarsely, stroking her hair back. "Jus' realizing all over again how much I always want to be with you? And it's mutual."

"Yes, it is." She pinched him for his conceit, but her kisses stayed warm and comforting. She sat back from him, taking a deep breath. "Willow, Tara, and I were talking the other day. When we were shopping."

"Yeah?" He didn't bother to wonder about her strange subject change, he knew- even if it were only in her little California Dreamin' brain- that it made sense to her somehow.

"We're all juniors next year. I'm barely a junior, a junior who's like ten credits behind- but I'm there- junior-ificness." She twisted her hands nervously.

"Good for you." He encouraged, having no idea why he was hearing this now.

"We- um- all of us- can opt to move into the upperclassman dorms. They have bathrooms, a mini fridge and microwave. In the room. You have to pay a little more in your tuition..."

_She wants to get out of here. I can understand I guess. But we've been talkin' about all of us workin' under one roof. What's the deal? _"I see."

"You don't have to have roommates. Single occupancy." She twisted her hands with renewed vigor, focusing on twirling the brand new ring adorning it. "Y-you wanna come?"

"Do I wanna come with you?" His brow furrowed.

"No. No, it's a dumb idea. We can stay here. There's way less space in a dorm room then a whole house, even though there's a lounge and a rec center in the dorm, and a cafeteria, and- uh." She trailed off. _Stupid, stupid, stupid Buffy! Of course he doesn't want to leave this beautiful house and Mom and Dawn and go live in college squalor with you._

"You're staying with me? Where I want to be?"

"Well, I don't really care where we go. And you have your car, you can go wherever you want, see Mom, and Dawn. I know we said it wouldn't matter if there were four or five people under one roof, it was just an idea. Willow and Tara are getting a room in Tara's name- since she's on scholarship, but then they'll be sharing. I thought- maybe if we wanted to be on our own a little more-"

"I should have known better." He closed his eyes. _What happened to "you're my reflection", you dumbass? If you wouldn't bail on her, she wouldn't bail on you. Prissy, nancy_ idiot_._ "Of course I wanna come. If it's okay with you."

They shared a smile and a rueful glance. _We almost jumped to some weird conclusions, didn't we_, they seemed to say. For a moment they sat in silence, fingers weaving in and out, both of them staring at her small hands in his roughened ones, the antique ring glaring at them.

He broke the silence. "So. You've got my ring. We're gonna live together, on our own, as it were. Jus' the two of us."

"We're seriously doomed." Buffy smiled into his eyes.

"True." His eyes twinkled back.

"Might as well pull the trigger." She murmured.

"Yeah." He licked his lips slowly. "Can't give you normal."

"Duh." She rolled her eyes. "But that's okay. I can't give you normal either."

"H-how do we do this then?" _Because in reality, this can't be happening. It can't work, it will never work. Then again- I think it's impossible to end up in love with Slayer, calling her mother "Mum", havin' her kid sis hug me and call me brother, and about to be sharin' a house with a Watcher. I guess on the Hellmouth we can do whatever we want._

"I don't know how all of it works out. But first, I think you ask me." Her voice was almost inaudible.

He squared his shoulders. "I'm askin'. Will you? Someday?"

"Yes. Whenever you want." _Wow. That was surprisingly easy. I guess it just feels right like this._

"Really?" He was openly incredulous. "You're- you're sure about that?"

"Yes, really. I'm really sure." She beamed and tried not to laugh.

He narrowed his eyes. "We are talkin' about the same thing, right?"

"I think so. Did you ask me once before? Under a spell?"

"Yeah, that's it." He didn't get to one knee, but he did reclaim her hand, the one with the ring. "Let's see. I think it went, 'Say yes, and you'll make me the happiest man in the world.'"

In giddy, happy tones that she vaguely recalled, Buffy cried, quoting her earlier self, 'Oh, Spike! Of course it's yes!'"

"It's yes." He whispered, awe in his voice, wonder in his eyes. And of course, he found it reflected in hers as she leaned close enough to kiss him.

"It'll always be yes."

_ Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed our tale._


End file.
